#Aethelred Imagine

[justanoasisimagines]

Escape plan

Summary; Aethelred can't take anymore so he decides he needs to move his family away. Pairing; Aethelred x Female Reader Wordcount; 592 A/N; Hey my lovelies, back with my hero for the day! I hope you're enjoying it so far. Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Aethelred stormed through the grounds teeth gritted, firsts clenched. He ignored the wary glances as people moved out of his way. He was in search of you. He needed to navigate the sea of people if he had hopes of finding you.

Meanwhile, you'd heard of Aethelred's foul mood. You brushed past many. Exchanging pleasantries as you went, while your eyes searched for your husband. The elderly woman pointed when you questioned them about his whereabouts.

It would have been helpful if someone could have given you a precise location. However as you moved around in search of Aethelred, he was moving to search for you too. Like two ships in the night, the two of you kept evading each other.

Eventually, you retreated towards your chamber. If Aethelred's couldn't find you. He would surely head there. With a quickened pace. You needed to know what bothered him so.

Pushing the large oak door open, you were relieved when you noticed Aethelred sitting in a chair by the fire. His head laid heavy in his hands.

"My love., what bothers you?" You crossed the room kneeling at his fee. Aethelred refused to look at you as you placed a tender touch on his knee.

The room lay to the sounds of the fire cackling and the soft murmur of conversations outside. Eventually, Aethelred glanced up at you.

"Do you love me?"

Taken back by Aethelred's question. You moved back, Aethelred saw the pain, flash across your face. "Do you question my feelings towards you? Have I not proven myself to you as a wife." Aethelred moved towards the edge of his seat, reaching out until his hand caught yours. "It is not that I question your feelings. I know that you love me. My heart yearns for you the same way. Nothing could come close…I needed to be certain." The gap between you was too far, Aethelred tugged you towards him, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the chair. Aethelred's hands found your hips as you got comfortable. He needed to remember to remain focused. He could get lost in you afterward. You were his tiny piece of heaven upon this earth. Aethelred licked his lips before he glanced down at the ring on your finger. The single most important piece of jewelry you owned.

"I cannot bear to continue going forward like this. Mother is playing her agenda to have Alfred as King. Undermining my parentage and my legitimacy. She will get what she wants." "What are you suggesting?" Aethelred pulled you ever closer your legs on either side of his as he brought his forehead to yours. "We leave. I don't care where. We'll find a place together to build up and put it on the map, but I will not stay here. One day soon, we'll be in danger." "Your mother wouldn't do that." "I will not put it past her. To have Alfred on the throne I would need to be gone and so would Aethelwulf. I will not risk our son on the belief my other wouldn't stoop so low." Aethelred hated seeing the panic in your eyes there was no point in attempting the truth. A flash of understanding past through your eyes. "When do we leave?" "Tonight."

[tisafearfulthingtolovewriting]

Justice (1st Scenario)

Setting: Benjamin's torture chamber.

Jack (your husband) and Marcus are looking for you. It's cloudy and dark outside with little light. Once inside, they start calling your name. They're both expecting Benjamin to smell their scents and rush out to stop them.

Nothing. Not a single sound. The silence is deafening. Making Jack and Marcus feel terribly uneasy.

Marcus: You know her scent better than I do. Is she here?

Jack: She's here.

Curling his lip in discust

Jack: And so is he.

Marcus: I thought he would have shown his face by now. He knows we're here.

Jack: He's waiting for me.

A few moments later. They see you in a room at the end of the hallway. Your back is towards them. You're covered in blood and dirt, kneeling over a black, human-like figure

Jack and Marcus run to where you are. Jack kneels in front of you.

Jack: Y/N?

He then takes a closer look at the dark figure in front of him. It's Benjamin, dead. And then back at you. You meet his eyes.

Jack: Y/N?

You: His first mistake was crossing me.

Pause.

Jack: And his second?

You: He knows damn well what his second mistake was.

[withlove-fanfiction]

Justice (1st Scenario)

Setting: Benjamin's torture chamber.

Jack (your husband) and Marcus are looking for you. It's cloudy and dark outside with little light. Once inside, they start calling your name. They're both expecting Benjamin to smell their scents and rush out to stop them.

Nothing. Not a single sound. The silence is deafening. Making Jack and Marcus feel terribly uneasy.

Marcus: You know her scent better than I do. Is she here?

Jack: She's here.

Curling his lip in discust

Jack: And so is he.

Marcus: I thought he would have shown his face by now. He knows we're here.

Jack: He's waiting for me.

A few moments later. They see you in a room at the end of the hallway. Your back is towards them. You're covered in blood and dirt, kneeling over a black, human-like figure

Jack and Marcus run to where you are. Jack kneels in front of you.

Jack: Y/N?

He then takes a closer look at the dark figure in front of him. It's Benjamin, dead. And then back at you. You meet his eyes.

Jack: Y/N?

You: His first mistake was crossing me.

Pause.

Jack: And his second?

You: He knows damn well what his second mistake was.

[tobyregbocharacterfanfiction]

Cold Case.

TRIGGER WARNING: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, AND INFIDELITY.  DRUNKENNESS. MURDER.

Over a century ago your husband died an agonizing death. Detectives still to this day are floored by the case which has since gone cold. Now with Jack's return and his apparent blood rage. The wheels in your mind start turning as to what truly could have happened. You sit in front of the fireplace going through everything in your mind. Jack walks into the room, you quickly glance at him before talking.

You: The last time I saw my husband, he beat me so bad I lost consciousness. When I woke up the sun had just gone down and he was gone...I assumed he was doing what he always did. Storm out, go to a pub, and talk to other women before bedding them. Except for this time, he didn't come home the next morning.

Jack: (nervously) What happened?

You: Two days later they found his body just outside of town, deep inside the woods. Lying in a pool of blood. His blood. The police detectives told me it looked like he had been savagely attacked by an animal.

Jack stays silent

You: But the thing is my husband died in the middle of winter. Bears were in hibernation and mountain lions don't live in the area of the woods he was found in. And there were no gun or knife wounds on him. They never did figure out what killed him. His case quickly went cold. Now I wonder if it was a vampire that killed him. One with blood rage.

Jack: You think I killed him?

You: Did you?.... I'm not angry Jack, I just want to know the truth.

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

Jack: I saw you with him several different times walking down the street.

The way you looked. The way you were around him. I knew something was wrong. One day I followed you home and I saw him slap you across the face before you even walked through the front door. I should have killed him then and there, but I knew I had to wait. That last night I followed him to a pub and then to a woman's house in the country. I waited outside and when he walked out that's when I...afterward I dragged his body into the woods as far as I could go and I left him there.

You: Was Benjamin with you?

Jack: No.

You: And the woman he was with?

Jack: I didn't harm her. She was innocent. She didn't deserve to die.

You're tempted to ask why, but in your heart, you already know. You get up from where you're sitting and put your arms around him. He returns the gesture.

You: (softly) Thank You.

[illtakeyoutowonderland]

The One (Part 14)

The one with the wedding

Sihtric x Reader

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The journey was, once again, uneventful until they made it to the gates of Winchester. It took some convincing to Steapa to make him finally open the gates. But once he did no one wasted time to enter the walls

Finan, Sihtric and Y/N were the last ones and Steapa was already down the stairs and next to the big doors when the three crossed them "Lady Y/N" Steapa greeted her with a big smile "Nice to see you doing well"

"Nice to see you, too, Steapa" She returned his big smile with one of her own only to turn and find Sihtric and Finan giving her a confused look "What?" She said shrugging but the men said nothing

Once they got off their horses she stood close to both men, not really wanting to get lost in this unknown place

"Is that Aethelwold the sword-Dane I see?" Finan said to a man that sat on a table near by drinking "Looks like you've mislaid an eye" And Y/N took notice of the short blonde man

"I see you perfectly, Finan" The man replaied unamused "Though I do not see your master. Uhtred, where is he?"

"Standing at your blind side, perhaps" Finan said shrugging making Sihtric laugh

"Finan" Y/N slapped the man's arm scolding him but he just laughed and the group of three walked away, not without noticing how Aethelwold looked at Y/N

Osferth appeared out of nowhere scaring Finan a little as they all made it to a corner "So, we are inside the walls of Winchester. Where will he go? To Father Beocca?" The monk said once they were sure no one listened

"Yes. He'll find us. Be sure of it" Finan replied

"And he is free of his curse"

"She's dead?" Y/N asked in surprise and both her and Sihtric shared a look

"Very"

"Then we're all free of the curse, baby monk" Finan said and went off to talk with the Bishop, to say some excuse for them to stay so no one would find them suspicious

The three of them left went to find a table at an ale house so they could eat something and wait for Finan to figure out what to do next. This time Sihtric decided to sit next to Y/N and she suddenly felt very warm. Osferth sat across them once he made it with two jugs of ale and a few cups. They drank mostly in silence, Y/N looking around her as much as she could, taking in the new big city she was in and she saw Hild talking to some of the priests not far from them

"Apparently there is a wedding" Finan said as he sat next to Osferth and grabbed a cup for himself "Looks like you lost your chance with the princeling, Lady" Y/N rolled her eyes as he winked at her

"What do you mean?" Osferth asked

"Finan have this amazing imagination where he believes Edward was courting me somehow" Y/N explained

"It wasn't Finan's imagination, Lady" Sihtric said next to her looking at his cup and Finan gave her a I told you so look "We all saw it. Ask Lord Uhtred"

"You could've been queen" Osferth said with wide eyes

"You have all lost your minds" Y/N scoffed as she left the table to find Hild who welcomed her with a warm smile "Please let me stay with you at least for a while. I cannot stand those three any longer"

"You are more than welcome to make me company" Hild said laughing at Y/N's words "I know exactly how you feel" They both laughed in complicity "And I think someone would like to see you" She said and once inside the palace they were met with Aehelflaed and her husband who had come to the wedding

"Lord" She said to Aethelred not wanting to start a fight but he only gave her a exagerated smile and went on his way. She did not complain, on the contrary

"Oh, it is so nice to see you again" Aethelflaed said as they both hugged each other 

"We have some catch up to do" Y/N said to her hoping to have a moment alone with her friend

"We do" Aethelfaed nodded "But first we must find you a dress. For the wedding" She explained at the confuse look on Y/N's face

"Oh, I don't think I should come to the wedding..."

"Of course you should" Alfred's voice was strong, once again, on contrary to his looks. He walked with Edward at one side and a woman on the other "You would not reject the invitation from a king, would you?" He said with a warm smile on his face 

"I wouldn't dare" Y/N replied and he nodded satisfied

"Mother, this is Y/N" Aethelflaed introduced her to Lady Aelswith

"You must be the famous Y/N my husband and children keep talking about" Lady Aelswith said qith an emotionless tone

"I do not know about famous, Lady" She replied "But it is an honor to finally meet you"

"Is that so?" Lady Aelswith said with surprise 

"You are the mother of one of my dearest friends" Y/N explained as she pointed to Aethelflaed and she saw how a smile formed on the Lady's face

"She also fought bravely at Beamfleot" Edward said nodding at Y/N

"You were on the battlefield?" Aelswith asked with a disaproving tone and shock on her face "That is not place for a Lady"

"Unfortunately, yes" Y/N said to her "And trust me, Lady, I do not plan to find myself in that situation again any time soon"

"Now come, my love" Alfred said to Aelswith "We still have some preparations to make" And with that the pair were gone, followed by Hild

"It is nice to see you again, Lady" Edward said once they were gone

"And on a merrier scene as you wished" Y/N replied with honesty "I am happy for you Edward" 

"I am too, Y/N" He said and that was the first time both had said each others names, which warmed Y/N's heart to had found a new friend amongst them

"I'm sorry to interrupt, brother, but we must find Y/N a dress for tomorrow" Aethelflaed said 

"Do what you must" Edward said with a smile and the two woman were gone

After hours and hours of talking, catching up and trying dresses Aethelflaed was more than satisfied and let Y/N make her way back to the three men at the ale house 

"What's with the bag?" Finan asked as she joined them at the table

"Wouldn't you like to know" She replied as she sat next to him, only to have him reach for the bag but she slapped his hand away "Take your dirty hands of it!" She said at his smirking face "It's a dress"

"A dress?" Osferth asked "What for?"

"The king has invited me to the wedding" She simply said making them all surprised at her words "And also, I just met lady Aelswith" Y/N said with a sigh. She wouldn't rate the meeting too bad, she knew it could've gone so much worse, but there was something about that woman that frightened her a little

"Oh, you poor thing" Finan said as he handed her some ale and she could do nothing but laugh

The next day Osferth, Finan, Sihtric and Y/N made their way to Father Beocca's house so Y/N could get ready for the wedding. And also, to ask Uhtred their next steps

"Lady Y/N" Father Beocca greeted her in surprise "It is good to see you. I see you still wander with this trouble makers"

"I happen to have grown fond of them, unfortunately" Y/N replied making Beocca smile at her

"Oi! She is more troublemaker than all of us together, Father" Finan said as he sat in the kitchen table as Y/N gasped faking innocence. And once the door to his house was closed Uhtred came out from one of the rooms with a red haired woman

"Lady Y/N" Beocca said to her once again "This is my wife, Thyra. Uhtred's sister" 

"It is so nice to meet you" Thyra said and welcomed her in a big hug which Y/N happily returned "Uhtred has told me everythign about you"

"Seriously, you ask him to keep this one secret and he tells everyone" She mumbled scolding him but he only laugh

"You can trust Thyra. She is family"

"I know" Y/N gave him a look "I'm just starting to think maybe I should not trust you" She raised an eyebrow at him 

"Oh, he means well" Thyra said earning an See? I told you look from Uhtred to Y/N who just rolled her eyes at him. The arrongance of this man... "Now come, you have yet to change"

She pushed Y/N to a room and left her alone so she could change in peace. Which Y/N thanked as she put her bag on one of the tables. She sat on the bed trying to catch her breath. She didn't know why she was suddenly this nervous. 

Y/N heard Finan's voice followed by Sihtric's laugh and her heart melted a little. It wasn't very often Sihtric was loud, unlike the former Irishman. But everytime he showed this side of him made Y/N's heart grew bigger and for a second she wondered what it would be like to make him laugh that hard by herself. But, she pushed the thoughts aside as she reached for her bag and the new dress.

She walked out of the room and into Thyra and Beocca's kitchen, wearing the dress Aethelfaed had chose her not feeling entirely like herself "It is weird isn't it? I feel weird" She said and everyone went silence as they looked at her with wide eyes "I knew it!" She said as soon as she saw their reactions "It's too much, I'm changing" She started to made her way back to the room when she was suddenly stopped

"No!" Everyone said at the same time 

"You look beautiful" Sihtric suddenly said breathless and they all stared at him for a second before looking over to Y/N to see her reaction

"Thank you" Y/N said softly and she already knew she was blushing at his sincere words and intense gaze

Finan stood up and made his way to her "Let me see you" He said as he place both hands on her shoulders and looked at her to then look into her eyes again "They will be some lucky bastards" He smirked and she rolled her eyes at him "You look really nice, Lady"

"You really do, Y/N" Uhtred said to her and she saw Osferth nodding at his friend's words

"You have to let me do your hair" Thyra said with a big smile on her face and Y/n did not have the heart to tell her no

A few hours later, Y/N stood next to Thyra and Beocca watching the beautiful bride made her way down the aisle and towards Edward

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

@secretdreamlandmentality

@superawesomegeek

If you wanna be tag, let me know! 💜

[holy3cake]

Confess your sins tag game!

Rules: Any character from any fandom can be used for this game. Pick a character that you consider a guilty pleasure/background character aside from your blorbo, and confess why you like them 😊

Okay so anyone who knows me will know that I'm an absolute whore for Aethelstan, Osbert, Aethelred and Aldhelm lmao but after a conversation with my dear @lord-aldhelm, I wanted to do this game.

My pick is: ODDA

Yes, I think Odda is a hot older gentleman. He is very distinguished, and yes the guy made some very valid points in the show! I mean can you imagine him in his twenties in Devonshire? The man would be MELTY. I am mad we never saw his wife either, but his protective nature is also very attractive.

In conclusion, Odda is daddy material. Thank you for coming to my TED talk 🤣🤣

No pressure tags: @lord-aldhelm @lancedoncrimsonwings @grinningkatz @waterfallsilverberrywrites @book-and-music-lover

@errruvande @thenameswinter99 @whitedarkmoonflower @persephones-journey @paula-in-dreamland + Anyone that sees this and would like to participate:)

[lord-aldhelm]

Writing Interview Tag Game!

Thank you for the tag @bagheerita! This one has taken me a while to do since it is so long. As with the original post I have pasted the template below the "read more" cut so you can copy and paste if you want to do this.

About Me:

When did you start writing? Specifically for The Last Kingdom: it was sometime late in 2022, probably October or November. My original drafts kept getting over-written due to some stupid bug in Word which, when the auto-save was triggered, it would force me to save as a new document. So I have no idea exactly when, unfortunately. Besides this, I used to write a bit when I was a teenager, for my OC, but I never got further than a few chapters.

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write? For fanfics: I mostly read TLK fanfics at the moment, and I suppose that falls under historical fiction/period drama. For genres, I like happy endings with some angst and mutual pining to make it interesting. For books: I am a fantasy nerd for sure.

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often? For fanfics I cannot think of one specifically, although reading fanfics has influenced the way I write. I have learned to incorporate more sensory descriptions in my writing, and trying to use more metaphors and poetic descriptions rather than the literal way of writing I normally do. For authors, I love JRR Tolkien, Tad Williams, and GRR Martin, so I suppose they influence me as well.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space? I write on my laptop in my home office, using Microsoft Word.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse? Oh I cannot muster up a muse. They sneak up on me and invade my fantasies, highjacking my thoughts and holding me hostage until I write them down. lol! Although sometimes I might be inspired to write something based on a deranged convo with one of my friends, so there is that! Also, having people give me feedback on my writing definitely motivates me to write more.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about? Not particularly. I grew up in a lower middle class family in the suburbs, not really very inspirational. I do however have a very vivid and overactive imagination.

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you? I have not written very much so I cannot say for sure. I only have one long fic and a few smaller fics, and they all center around the same character. I do like to take a deep dive into character development and introspection though. I really love thinking about what motivates the characters, and their inner thoughts.

Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? Aldhelm... um... I have literally written whole entire essays about him so I won't go into detail here lmao!

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life? Aldhelm for sure. He would be my bestie. And more...

Which characters would you dislike the most of you met them? Probably Aethelred.. he is such a whiny brat.

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters? I am assuming this applies to OC's... which I have a few of in my stories! The first is Beohtric, which is Aldhelm's brother. Aldhelm needed a family and a backstory and I felt, most importantly, he needed an advocate, so I created Beohtric to be that person. Someone who supported Aldhelm and gave him some kind of center for his life. I have other OC's which are more kind of side characters created for a purpose, like Wulfstan in the fic about how Aldhelm became captain of the guard. Then there are other characters which are deceased at the time of writing, but I still came up with personalities and backstories for them because they were relevant to the plot. There is another major OC for a story I am working on, who is based on a few characters from other series/movies, as well as being a sort of alter-ego.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters? Not particularly for my OC's, no? I mean I try to make them more three dimensional, and realistic. Not purely evil or not purely good. Having flaws as well as good characteristics.

How do you picture your characters? In my head? Sometimes I can form an image of them using an existing person as a template (character reference I think this is called?) But most of the time they are kind of generic.

My Writing:

What’s your reason for writing? The reason for writing my fanfics is because of my deep love for Aldhelm and The Last Kingdom, and the overwhelming urge to tell my own story about him. It started out as a series of daydreams that kind of spilled out into a Word document and then it all went downhill from there lol!

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating? Anything! Any comments are welcome, even the generic "I love your fic!" types. Although I really love the people that take the time to go into detail about a particular scene or chapter and tell me what exactly they loved about it. That really makes my day!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers? That I am passionate about the characters in the stories that I write.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? I suppose character development.

Have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others? Writing a story that is easy to read, has good sensory descriptions, and a compelling storyline.

How do you feel about your own writing? I think it could be better, but I am definitely seeing improvements since I first started almost two years ago.

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write? Yeah I would. Because I write for myself. I love seeing my stories work themselves out on the page.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both? A little of both? I mostly write for myself, but I also consider if someone wants to read it. I try to make it enjoyable and interesting.

No pressure tags: @thelettersfromnoone @holy3cake @paula-in-dreamland @errruvande

@sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @foxyanon @grinningkatz @thenameswinter99

@alexagirlie @synintheraven @freddie-foxs @st-eve-barnes and whoever else wants to participate!

This took me FOREVER to do so I am not expecting that any of you will do this soon.

BLANK TEMPLATE:

About me

When did you start writing?

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

How do you picture your characters?

My writing

What’s your reason for writing?

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

How do you feel about your own writing?

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

[soulhollow]

Work title: An evening on Uhtred's Lundene terrace Chapter title: Sunset Chapters: 4/5 Fandom: The Last Kingdom (inclusive/inspired by the original books and BBC/Netflix series) Rating: M (overall work), this chapter General Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Alfred, Uhtred, others Summary:

A brief scene from Sword Song, a re-imagining, a fleshing-out. Alfred's unannounced visit to Lundene following the recapture of the city by Uhtred and Aethelred's forces. Inspiration drawn from the original books by Bernard Cornwell as well as the BBC/Netflix series.

[mirdaniaa]

32 x

Whenever he has imagined his death, he has imagined it would be not unlike Aethelred’s knife going into his belly; that sudden, sharp pain followed by the warm blossoming of blood around the blade. He has even dared to imagine the same gentle sinking to the ground, guided by a pair of hands, cruel in their tenderness.

There is nothing tender about the rope which waits for him now.

He has spent so much of his life walking on the edge of a blade that he has always assumed he would meet his end at the point of one. At the end of this walk, there will be no blade’s point lovingly thrust beneath his ribs, no warmth slowly seeping through his tunic. There will only be a noose tightening around his neck, choking, choking, choking him in the cold morning air. 

It is so cold. He wishes they had let him dress before they brought him out here. He wishes he did not feel so naked. The Danes say a man must have a sword in his hand to enter Valhalla. Christians do not need a sword in hand to enter Heaven, but Aldhelm would like one. He would like something, anything, to give him some dignity. 

He steps onto the block and feels the eyes of Aethelstan’s men follow him up. Once, he had been a young man who lived for the attention of a crowd. Now he wishes he was invisible. He wishes he was not real. You cannot kill a man who is not real. 

They cannot kill him. He has too much to do. He has not finished drafting that charter, and Aethelstan’s instructions were so precise. And he was planning to meet with Constantin’s nephew Domnal to personally apologize for the supplicant incident, before it turned into a war. And Aelfwynn’s baby is due any day now. He was going to–

The noose slips over his head. 

They are going to do it. He is going to die. The charter will be written by someone else. Domnal will leave in a foul mood and tell his uncle how he was treated. He will never hold Aelfwynn’s baby, will never see her again. She will believe her cousin killed him because he was a traitor, he, who used to lift her onto her horse because the stirrups were too high, traitor–

The noose tightens, the rope scratching and jerking against his throat. Instinctively, he gasps, his heart pounding against the calm, still morning. 

Perhaps Aethelstan is right. Perhaps he did turn his back on him. Perhaps he should have seen Ingilmundr for what he is, the way Ingilmundr has seen him for what he is. Like, it seems, recognizes like. 

You turned your back, Aldhelm. Now I turn mine.

Should you live, Aldhelm, never disobey me again. Never.

The man on the block steps down and Aldhelm closes his eyes. He longs for a knife in his belly, for the hope of a second chance.

A gut wound is a slow death.

A gut wound can heal. It will heal.

But the block is knocked out from under him and Aldhelm’s eyes fly open, the calm, still morning tumbling over his head. 

should you live, aldhelm

will you do me one more service, lord aldhelm

you turned your back, aldhelm

aldhelm aldhelm aldhelm

[maskedemerald]

Heads Up, 7 Up

So I got tagged by @thetruearchmagos and also @pb-dot a few days ago. Its been a busy time and I wasn't sure what I was meant to do but now I do! Excuse my noobishness when it comes to some of these tag games.

Gently tagging: @vaultofqueenorion @squarebracket-trick @jasperygrace @card-queen @akiwitch @cat-esper @wmlittlemore-is-writing No pressure!

Rules for the confused like me: Share 7 lines of writing and tag 7 people.

I'm going to share more because I was tagged twice!

Check out the writing below the cut, I've gone with a scene I was editing for The Last Straw!

Aelfraed woke to a bellow crashing through his dreams. “Aelfraed! Get down here now!” His eyes shot open this time for real after several scattered anxious dreams of what might happen. The shout turned into muffled loud voices not quite loud enough to reach him through the floor. Aelfraed frowned dragging himself out of bed, that was Aelthelric he could just about hear along with the angry raised tones of their father. He couldn’t let Aethelric take the blame for this. He would try, even if Aelfraed didn’t deserve the help. He slipped out of the bedroom and into the corridor, softly stepping down the narrow stairs to the landing overlooking the hallway. Their father stood at the bottom gripping the banister tightly, turned away to face Aethelric. He couldn’t see his face but could imagine the deep scowl and crunched eyebrows along with the tinge of red to his skin. “Don’t try that with me Aethelric.  I know he’s here,” his father demanded, folding his arms. Aelfraed stilled, half wanting to escape back up the stairs unnoticed. “Fine okay, he’s here but why are you?” Aethelric said pointedly, “he’s allowed to go places.” “He isn’t allowed to just up and abandon his responsibilities on a whim. I should have kept a closer eye on him,” their father ranted arms waving.  “Father, he’s not a child,” Aethelric said with an incredulous expression on his face. “Then he shouldn’t act like one!” His father snapped. “Clearly he can’t be trusted to make the right choices.”

Please consider checking out the Kickstarter if this caught your interest! You can pre-order the e-book for just £1 or get a physical copy for as little as £10. There's just 24 days left! and just over 2 months before release day on the 25th of November!

Hit the K to get to the Kickstarter because Tumblr keeps insisting on turning the link into the video! (Maybe watch the video too if you want more teaser stuff.)

[justanoasisimagines]

Beautiful

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and banner

I am not versed in poetry like my brother. I do not dedicate myself to books like my brother. So I can not pretend this will be a mighty prose that will stand the test of time. I am amazed my Grandsire helped find me the most beautiful woman in all of Wessex. Someone who does not compare me to Alfred. Someone who can see my strengths and loves my weaknesses. I was warned before we were wed that many marriages are not full of love but rather for duty. Yet I hoped. Hoped with all my might that God would grant me both. He answered my selfish prayer and brought you to me.

To be frank, I don't know why I'm writing you this letter. I do not know if I'm going to allow you to read it. There was a sudden urge to write down how grateful I am to be blessed with you as my wife. Perhaps it is because now we have a son. A product of our union. He was not born from duty, but rather two people who passionately love each other in the rawest of forms. Many often gossip about us, but they cannot deny what we have. Those who attempted to would be foolish.

I will love you as long there is breath in my body

Aethelred

[ivarthebadbitch]

“We are taught to endure it” well DONT

@aethelreds god this line is like nails on the chalkboard for me, it's so clearly meant to be this profound statement on the nature of womanhood or whatever but what it really does is reveal the limits of the writers' imagination. alas, women must suffer, such is the world!

i'm impressed you have thoughts (please share) I just had an increasing buzz in my ear while watching it

@dragonsoftheeast well, these are maybe not super coherent thoughts or anything, but the ongoing thread throughout the series is that suffering is this integral part of womanhood. while men definitely suffer in tlk, it's not integral to manhood in the way violence is integral to manhood. a man acts, a woman is acted upon (sometimes she might get to stab an abusive man in retaliation as a little treat!). the most virtuous woman bravely suffers without complaint and never loses her instinctively nurturing and supportive nature. see: thyra, eadith, hild, so on and so forth.

[emblematicemblazer]

World building and theories of Engage

Alfred and Alfred the Great

Alfred, The Crowned Prince of Firene, has a real life inspiration, the Anglo-Saxon king Alfred the Great (849-899). Alfred the Great is probably best known for successfully defending his kingdom, Wessex, from Viking attacks. The surrounding kingdoms of Northumbria, East Anglia and Mercia had fallen and the odds were stacked against him, Alfred the Great and his father King Aethelred, were driven back into the heart of their kingdom and had to employ guerrilla tactics.

Alfred has similar claims to fame, with the help of the Divine Dragon he successfully defends his kingdom from attacks by the corrupted and Elusian forces. 

There are other similarities between the two kings. When Alfred the Great was a young boy, he went on a pilgrimage with his father to Rome. This visit inspired a view of kingship based on religious morals and values. Alfred visited the Divine Dragon as a boy as well. These visits helped Alfred form a close friendship with the Divine Dragon. 

Alfred the Great was a champion of education and taught himself Latin so he could translate important texts into English. He also set up schools to educate all young men. He also made military reforms which included: a rota systems fields were not neglected, fortified towns which formed the basis of the English system of boroughs and shires and strengthened the navy with the aid of foreign skilled craftspeople. To restore faith in the economy he increased the silver content in coins and created a new design, he introduced a fairer tax system, and introduced written laws. Alfred the Great was a reformer who improved his people's quality of life.

Alfred the Great had a condition with symptoms similar to Crohn's disease. He often went through periods of great pain and sickness, especially after grand feasts. He died early, (early 50s), but still managed to marry and raise an heir. Alfred has a similar condition and dies early because of it. His dislike of spicy food and strong tasting food could be because they make him unwell. There is no mention of Celine becoming Queen so I imagine that Alfred also married and had an heir. 

[anoncat6]

PETRICHOR | sihtric x oc | part three

part one part two

3. 2 weddings and a proposal

Winchester was expansive, and busy, and altogether far too dirty a place for Ghylena to like it; no, she much preferred the open air, Shaeda beneath her and Sihtric beside her.

For now however, she would tolerate the city to which they had come for the wedding of Alfred’s daughter, Aethelflaed.

It was strange; how easily it was to imagine a similar gathering of the people closest to her, Sihtric stood beside her, in a wedding for a different pair. It was even easier to imagine that pair to be her and Sihtric, if only the fool would finally propose…

As it was, for now she was to be content with simply watching another’s ceremony.

“Is that Aethelred?” Clapa pointed to the arriving parade of horses.

“From what I know, Alfred could not have chosen a bigger turd.” Uhtred said.

Finan, not to be outdone, replied, “I’ve never met the man, but by the look of him, he was indeed shat out the arse of a giant.”

Ghylena giggled, her laugh mingling with Sihtric’s chuckle, as the scabby rat-man known as Aethelwold made his presence known, only for Uhtred to drag him off to speak in private.

Laughing at yet another of Finan’s comments, Ghylena paused with a sharp intake of air, her fingers closing into a fist as a jolt of pain shot through her stomach. Determined for her pain to go unnoticed, she kept a blank face, and was glad whenever Sihtric excused himself to chase after Uhtred, mentioning something about a promise.

Ghlyena’s courses always caused her immense pain, and Sihtric had occasionally noticed whenever she flinched at odd moments once a month, yet thankfully had the good sense not to mention it. 

He had brought her a tea of mint leaves once, when she was unable to leave her bed in the burh and Gisela had mentioned her pain to him; when he left it at her bedside his face was blushed furiously red, and he didn’t speak, simply clasping her hand before letting her fall back asleep. Lena found it oddly touching.

Saying a quick goodbye to Finan and Clapa with the excuse of finding Gisela, Ghylena made her way back to the inn they were all staying at for the celebrations. 

Her head now thumped with pain, and the room was far too bright. She was too warm and completely uncomfortable as she stripped down into her nightclothes and crawled under the covers to rest.

The only way she could handle her bloods whenever the pain was this bad was to sleep through them, so that’s what she did. 

<>

Whenever Uhtred mentioned his expedition to see the dead man Bjorn to Gisela, she had told him not to bring Ghylena, having checked in with her little sister earlier and found her unable to leave her bed.

Uhtred, after checking that Ghylena was indeed alright, didn’t enquire further into his wife’s words, leaving quickly to meet with the dead man. He took Finan, Clapa and Sihtric with him.

Gisela stayed with Lena after that, her company a soothing presence for her sister.

“I can never understand how I am to be cursed with such painful courses, and yet you seem to be unbothered by yours, Gisa.” Ghylena whimpered from under her covers.

Gisela raised her eyebrows, “You saw my pregnancies, yes? Perhaps those pains are my curse, and you will be blessed with a painless labour when your time comes.”

Ghylena snorted, “I doubt it.”

Turning over to face her sister, she took a drink of the water she had brought to her, “Uhtred will make Sihtric wait the dead man out, won’t he?”

“Yes, I imagine he will want to know if he is being tricked or not.” “Sihtric will hate that. I have yet to meet a man more superstitious than him.”

“Lena, I have yet to meet a man more smitten than him.” Gisela teased.

Choking slightly on her water, Ghylena regained her composure before replying, “Has he asked yet, then?”

Gisela smiled gracefully, “He has. He has also made my husband promise to keep you as his warrior after you become a wife. Lena, I take it you plan on saying yes?”

“Of course, Gisa.” Ghylena grinned, unable to hide her joy, “I love him, and I want to live my life alongside him. What time I am blessed to spend by his side, I will spend it as his wife. I am his, and he is mine.”

<>

Thyra looked beautiful, Beocca looked proud, and Uhtred looked clueless.

So all in all, the first wedding of the day went exactly as Ghylena expected. 

She was happy, for both Thyra and Beocca. They gave each other peace, and kept each other safe, and it was what they both deserved. 

Sihtric and Finan stood tall on the other side of the hall, and Ghylena couldn’t help but steal glances at Sihtric, knowing what she now knew from Gisela.

Sihtric was going to ask her to marry him, and he had secured her future for her as a warrior. Ghylena couldn’t tell if she was more excited or impatient, but whichever it was, Gisela seemed all too knowing.

The second wedding of the day was much less enjoyable for Ghylena, but it at least confirmed what she would not want for hers.

The large gathering of strangers, the unending sea of eyes… No, no it was detestable. Better to have just loved ones.

Still, at least the flowers look nice. Pity they’ll be out of bloom by the time Sihtric finally gets his head out of his ass and asks me. 

Ghylena glanced sidelong up at him, admiring his sharp features and intelligent eyes. She smiled. She would wait for him.

He was wearing the arm band she had gifted him last year, it sat encircling his arm just above his elbow, golden and glinting, clearly well cared for. She hadn’t seem him without it since he first put it on, much like the beautiful gold earrings he had given her in return. Her hand reached up silently, twisting the jewellery in her ear, a small habit she had developed.

It was Finan’s threat to kill Aethelwold in his sleep that made Ghylena’s ears perk to attention, just in time for the 3 knocks to ring out, and for the elaborate ceremony to commence.

<>

The sun was warm on Ghylena’s face as she lounged on the stone steps surrounded by Uhtred and Finan, with Sihtric sat behind her, his leg as her pillow.

Aethelwold was at his scheming again, yet this time he had been blissfully interrupted by a baby monk who called himself Osferth.

“I wish to join you, Lord, be by your side as my uncle was. Lord, I wish to serve you as a warrior.” He was young, yet still taller than Ghylena, with eyes like a newborn puppy.

Lena took pity, “You have a woman fighting for you, Uhtred. Why not a baby monk?”

Steappa appeared then, summoning Uhtred to the presence of the King. Turning to leave, Uhtred spoke to Osferth as he handed his sword to Finan: “You. Find me again. Bring a sword and lose your cross.”

Sihtric sprang up then, once it was just Finan left with them.

“Ghylena, walk with me?” He pulled her to her feet.

Finan shook his head, smirking from beneath his cup as he went off to drink with Clapa.

Something bubbled up in Ghylena then, a sense of knowing, impatience and anxiety. 

Was he finally going to ask? What if this was something else, and she had gotten her hopes up for nothing? What if he never intended to marry her at all? What if something was wrong? Had she offended him in some way?

“You’re overthinking again,” Sihtric squeezed her hand gently as he led her through the streets and towards a quiet area. 

Flowers blossomed in pots around them, and with everyone of Winchester being gathered for the wedding, the street was surprisingly empty.

Bees hummed gently above them, travelling through the plants which drooped down from the roofs above them to shroud them in green.

“Hm,” Ghylena smiled, squinting her eyes against the sun before he moved to cover her with his shadow, “How do you always know?”

Reaching his hands up to clasp her neck, he beamed at her, “Because you get the exact same look on your face that I do.”

Lena held his hands in her own, basking in his closeness, the feeling of being shielded from the rest of the world by his frame. Tilting her head up as he bent down, she met his lips in a tender kiss, his lips as soft and gentle as always.

She felt his smile against her lips, pulling away from him to touch her forehead to his, her hands flat against his back, holding him close.

“Ask me,” she whispers, “Sihtric. Ask me.”

He shook his head, a soft chuckle falling from his lips as he gazed down at her. Lena had never felt so happy and content as she did in that moment, their own little world with just them in it.

Beaming at her then, he smiled when he pulled away, her hands held in his calloused ones. Dropping to his knees before her, Lena’s heart stopped and she forgot how to breathe. 

“Ghylena, my heart, before the gods… please,” he swallowed, his voice wobbling slightly, “Marry me.”

Unable to help herself, Ghylena collapsed to her knees as well, falling on top of him as she yelped, “Yes! You stupid, stupid man! Of course I’ll marry you. I’ve waited long enough for you to ask!”

His eyes widened in relief slightly, then further in shock at the kisses she pressed to his cheeks and then his lips, the force of her momentum pushing him to the soft dirt beneath them, with her body splayed atop his. He held one arm around her waist, holding her steady, and the other pushed against the ground.

“FINALLY!” Finan’s voice called out.

Sihtric and Lena’s heads turned at the same time, staring open-mouthed at the small audience of Clapa, Uhtred, Finan, Hild and Gisela who had started to clap, cry and whistle like a bunch of wild animals.

Ghylena hid her face in Sihtric’s chest, but was unable to stop the grin from stretching her lips.

She had never been so happy.

-> up next: 'the end of peace'...

[breanime]

14, 21 and 22

14. Save Aethelwold or Aethelred

Oof... save Aethelwold, but only so Uhtred or Brida can kill him. I would stand there and watch Aethelred die while eating an apple if I could.

21. Break Finan's heart or break your loyalty to Sigtryggr

FRIEND, THIS WAS CRUEL. Goddddd, um... FUCK, this is so hard. Cause the thought of breaking Finan's heart breaks MY heart. Like, I'm just picturing the face he made and the way he stared at Eadith when she said everyone who cared for her is gone, and I can't do that to him. But THEN I think of Siggy's face when his brother betrayed him and that hurts toooooo 😭 FUCKKK. Um, ummm... Betray Sigtryggr's loyalty, but If try to get back into his good graces afterwards 😭😭😭

22. Save Eric or save Ragnar

My heart says Ragnar due to my love for Uhtred and Brida, but I would have LOVED for Eric to live and see what becomes of the plot. Also, I love the idea of someone honorable owing Uhtred a debt, because unlike a lot of the Saxons (aka Alfred and his line), I feel like Eric has always respected and honored his word when it comes to Uhtred, and I think he would have been a fantastic ally. Also imagine Eric being able to raise his daughter as a Dane. Imagine him not being satisfied until he sees Aethelred dead for abusing Aethelflead. Imagine Eric and Aethelflead on the battlefield together, fighting alongside the Coccham Squad! Eric being fond of Sihtric from his time as a spy in Eric and Sigefrid's camp, GAWD!

So in short, Eric.

@songtoyou What about you? Same questions, what are your thoughts?

[greyskywrites]

Brother of the Moon VIII.

Witch

6.5k | kofi | ao3 | tag

The man without a name

It becomes more and more difficult to look at his reflection when he rises in the morning. Her reflection, he supposes, though she sometimes feels terribly distant. He has been trying to think of a name for himself, but nothing meets with satisfaction. He has no want of family names, and it is difficult to know where else to look. He tries on names like rings, taking them off when they don’t fit well or become a nuisance.

He dresses in Margaret’s clothes, he brushes out her hair.

Aethelric has put a permanent fear into the back of his mind, and so even when the opportunity presents itself he doesn’t slip away with Eadwin. They do speak about their plans, quietly and in coded words. Eadwin thinks they should be able to slip away quietly and get horses in the village, be gone before anyone knows to look for them. He (the one without a name) has been deciding what to take and what to leave, what he most wants in the life that lies ahead and what he cannot bear to leave behind.

Sometimes, when he is more Margaret than the other, it feels strange to think of himself in these terms, as if he’s wearing a shirt that doesn’t quite fit. The shift is never predictable, and he doesn’t quite know what to do about it. He thinks it ought to be easier—if he is meant to be a man, then it ought to come more naturally to him.

He secrets things away in the night when the servants have left him. Eadwin’s prayer book is hidden beneath the false bottom of her chest of linens. The amulet he wears around his neck, hidden under his clothes. He knows it’s dangerous, but it helps him to bear the distance he has to keep from Eadwin to feel that he has some piece of him so close. At night he takes the stone from under his shift, holding it up to catch the candlelight.

He heard Aethelric ask Eadwin what had happened to the amulet. Eadwin had said he gave it as a gift to someone who needed it more.

He doesn’t know how he can become what he saw in his visions, but he thinks if the Queen of Heaven showed it to him then it must be possible.

He wishes Eadwin could have seen him as he was in those visions.

The thunderstorm that came the day the moon began to wane had made a terrible mess of Eagletop. Hedges battered and barn rooftops half ripped away. An especially tall pine in the forest was struck by lightning, and at night it can be seen to glow. It is too damp for the trees around it to catch, Heaven be thanked, but the pine is burning from the inside out, and the common folk are whispering that it is an omen of troubles to come. The servants in the castle are still whispering about coal black stags, the burning pine is only a new element. Lady Margaret is bad luck.

Lady Margaret may be a witch.

He doesn’t know what witchcraft they think she’s done. Perhaps they’re just afraid of what she might do.

If she were a witch, he thinks dryly, then what he wants to do might be a great deal easier. Just slip into a new skin, like putting on a coat. Turn Wulfric into a mean little terrier that even Everard won’t have any love for.

Days pass, and still the blood doesn’t come, because of course it doesn’t. He counts how many days he’s been in Eagletop, how many days before the laundresses might notice. Can they be gone before that?

It is difficult to imagine the two futures he most wants at once. The one where he grows into what he saw in the vision, and the one where he has Eadwin and the child that—if all goes well—will be with them before next spring. He imagines the girl in idle moments, hair as dark as Eadwin’s, tall and growing well like her uncles.

His brothers. He does want to see them again, he can’t bear the thought of leaving without seeing them all one last time. In the back of his mind Eadwin’s question keeps creeping in, making his stomach twist in knots. And if Lord Henry decides he will not let you leave?

Margaret will not be a prisoner again, nor will he. It is one of the few things in which the two halves of himself are in perfect agreement.

The only thing he isn’t afraid of is being forced to marry Wulfric, and he knows why Eadwin didn’t mention the possibility. All it will take to shatter the betrothal is to reveal what has happened. It would be dangerous—but it would protect Margaret from at least one end. It won’t be necessary to give anyone a name, Margaret wasn’t sent from Grenacre with a proper chaperone. It could have been anyone.

They can guess when Eadwin disappears.

The notion that they will no longer have to be in secret, that they will be able to sleep beside each other sustains him in the long dark hours when he lays awake at night. He reaches an arm across the empty side of the bed and thinks this is only a trial to be endured for a short while, and then it will all be different.

#.

Eadwin

Wulfric has been avoiding Margaret. Margaret tells him that Wulfric has been taking more of his meals in his chambers, and she makes a cool mention that Bramble is always the one that takes them. “I don’t half wonder if he puts her in my chambers to report back to him,” she murmurs.

The day is bright and signs of summer are on the air, and he has found Margaret at archery with Aethelric and the children. Aethelric, he gathers, is there largely to be a nuisance while Margaret tries to teach Wulfwyn and Everard sits with his dog and Mildred pulls the blooms off flowers, heaping them in a ring around her doll.

“Mind your feet,” Margaret says, correcting Wulfwyn’s posture. “Archery isn’t just about your arms and shoulders. Your whole body goes into it.”

“My arms hurt.”

“Everything will. You’ll have to practice, build up strength. That’s the only way to improve.”

“When did they start you on the bow, Lady Margaret?” Aethelric asks, lazing about with his own bow that—so far as Eadwin can tell—he has not drawn at all. “I suppose you were Mildred’s age?”

“I was a year older than Everard, and too short for my bow,” Margaret says.

“Ah, we should start you now,” Aethelric says to his nephew, “then maybe when you’re grown you’ll be halfway decent.”

Everard picks up his dog, face turning red.

“My lord,” Eadwin says, “leave the poor child alone.”

“He won’t always be a child,” Aethelric says. “If he isn’t careful his father will declare Elred legitimate and he’ll be made a second son. You don’t want to be like me, do you?”

“Is Lord Wulfric educating his other son?” Margaret asks. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He is being educated in the abbey for now, my lady,” Eadwin says. “Though I’m sure his father has no intention for him to go into the church.” Eadwin has little to do with Elred’s education, but his impression is that the boy has benefited from distance from his father. He idolizes Wulfric, of course, because he doesn’t really know his father except as the man who sometimes brings him extravagant gifts and speaks of the man Elred will someday be.

“No, this one would be better suited for church life,” Aethelric says, flicking Everard on the back of the head. Everard yelps—likely more in surprise than pain.

“For the love of the Mother, leave him alone,” Margaret snaps.

Aethelric turns that troublesome grin on Margaret, clasping his hands together in mock prayer. “Oh, apologies, my lady, please don’t turn me into a newt or cast your evil eye upon me.”

Margaret gives him a scowl and turns back to Wulfwyn. “Do you mark the wind? How do you think you need to adjust your aim to strike true?”

Eadwin gestures for Aethelric to step aside with him, and Aethelric is cooperative in a way that suggests he’s been bored for a while. “I find myself,” Eadwin says in a low voice, “in the less than admirable position of needing to ask you for help.”

Aethelric’s brows rise to arches over his blue eyes. “Help? My dear Brother Eadwin, what could you possibly need my help for? You haven’t gotten her in trouble, have you?” At Eadwin’s silence, all color drains out of Aethelric’s face. “For fuck’s sake, Brother!” he hisses.

“It isn’t a torch and a whip, but it’s convinced her to leave,” Eadwin says. “It is that I need your help with. I’m going with her.”

“So we’re going to lose you after all,” Aethelric mutters. “This is better than with you underground, I suppose. What are you going to do about the abbey?”

“Father Algar is already prepared for my defrocking.” Eadwin lets out a breath, glancing back toward Margaret. Wulfwyn’s arm has a faint tremble, but her posture is good and her expression is determined. It will be a terrible thing for Wulfwyn and Everard to lose Margaret now. “She wants to see her brothers again, before,” he says. “But I need to be sure I can get her out of here safely.”

“You’re going to need horses,” Aethelric says.

“I thought we could get them in town.”

“No, you’re going to need them quickly, and the old nags in town aren’t worth your money.” Aethelric thinks a moment, restlessly tapping his bow against his leg. “The stable master has a soft spot for Rhona—” The children’s nurse. “—and she owes me a favor.”

Eadwin looks at him skeptically.

Aethelric gives him a thin and cold smile. “You haven’t blessed any of my brother’s bastards out of her, and for that, she owes me a favor. Tell me when you want to go, I’ll give her a very nice bottle of wine and tell her to keep Master Lewin busy for a few hours. She can decide how to handle that on her own, so long as he stays away from the stables.”

“And the other hands?”

“Pff,” Aethelric scoffs. “It’s like you don’t even know how this house celebrates an impending wedding. Get them by the kitchens, get them drunk. I am a very generous man with my brother’s wine, after all.” He puts a hand on his heart, smiles.

“Indeed you are,” Eadwin says, corners of his mouth pulling up. “Sometimes I think you would have made a good lord.”

“Best shut your lying mouth, Brother, I count on everyone thanking Heaven that I was born second. Once I’m done with you, I intend to spend a year as the worst sort of useless layabout. Best put a good disguise on our lady, if you mean to get her through the gates after dark.” He starts to saunter back toward the others, assuming they’re done.

“Aethelric,” Eadwin says.

“Hm?”

“Is Bramble spying on her?” He knows Aethelric knows the names of all the servants, knows who they are, what they do, where they ought to be at any given moment.

“Of course she is,” he says. “She’s hoping it means the trouble she’s currently in will have a little more favor from my brother, even if it’s a girl.” Aethelric shrugs his shoulders. “It’s going to be chaos here, if you pull this off. I hope you do, though.”

“Do you think Bramble knows?”

“I’m sure she’s suspicious, but no, I don’t think she knows. She would go screaming to Wulfric if she did know. If Wulfric ends up with a wife he hates, he’ll occupy himself with her a great deal longer than he would otherwise—and she would know that if she hid it from him, or he believed she was stupid enough to miss it when it was under her nose, she could expect worse treatment than he’d give to Lady Margaret.” Aethelric pauses a moment, thinking. “I think I should encourage Bramble to go to the church, when you leave. They should be able to shelter her for a few days, until he forgets about her.”

Aethelric is almost a decent man, when he isn’t drunk. He announces loudly: “Mother in Heaven, I need a drink.”

“Your aim will not improve,” Margaret calls, watching with folded arms as Wulfwyn looses an arrow. It strikes the outer edge of the target, and is the first to make actual contact.

“My mood will.” Aethelric glances back at Eadwin, lowering his voice again. “Wherever you intend to go, you had best make sure that woman can hunt.”

“I could not stop her if I wished to.”

Aethelric nods and goes back to sit by Everard and Mildred, barking at a servant to fetch him a drink. He leans back on his hands, watching as Margaret takes up her bow to demonstrate something to Wulfwyn. Eadwin lingers at a distance.

Margaret believes it will be a daughter, and he can imagine that she would like a daughter like Wulfwyn. He worries what will happen to the children. He tells himself to ask Father Algar to ensure that their next teacher is kind to them, if Wulfric will even have any of the brothers educating his children ever again.

The abbey stands to become a great deal poorer because of this.

Before he had come up to the castle that morning the two Knights of the Sun had come to see him, speaking in the churchyard while few others were yet awake—accustomed as they are to rising before the sun. They had put on their surcoats, golden yellow embroidered with a scarlet sun, and something about it made them seem taller. More imposing.

“We hear,” Sir Eva said delicately, “that you expect to soon be making an expedient journey.”

Eadwin tried to take the measure of their expressions. “I am.”

“We wish to help,” Sir Laure said.

Two knights that are, so far as he knows, in good standing with their order seemed an unlikely help for a disgraced monk and his pregnant lover. “Why?”

“We each took an oath to defend our Heavenly Mother’s children,” Sir Eva said, standing idle with her hand on the hilt of her sword, “and we do not think it is right to allow harm to come where it may be prevented. We have heard many rumors about the lady that give us pause.”

“You don’t credit them, I hope.”

“No, fortunately neither of us are inclined to believe that the lady is a witch,” Sir Laure replied, her arms folded over her surcoat. “But that others do is troubling to us.”

“You might go up to the castle,” he said, “say you wish to visit the lady, to congratulate her on her coming marriage. Then you might offer, if she should wish it, to keep her company and serve as her chaperones until the wedding. Men can begin to get ideas about the women that are promised to them when the date draws near, and Lady Margaret is a pious woman.”

Sir Eva smiled in a way that didn’t touch her eyes. “Yes. She is also a Rose.”

Sir Laure cleared her throat quietly, this obviously being her idea, and something Sir Eva had to be persuaded to. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” she said. “We are, after all, servants of the faithful, first and foremost.” She gave a thin smile. “Tell me, is there much discontent within the lord’s house?”

“All such houses are full of spiders,” Eadwin said. “You have heard the rumors.”

They plan to come in the afternoon. Eadwin thinks he has never spent so much of his life engaged in deception, even when he made his living by picking pockets for a short while.

Margaret looks at him over the top of Wulfwyn’s head, and he prays that they escape without incident, that the chaos and scandal they will leave behind does not touch them.

He prays that all this planning and secrecy will be enough.

#.

Margaret

When she is herself, it feels almost as if the man who is yet unnamed is only a dream. As though she is playing a grand game of pretend and it is foolish to imagine that she can ever be a man such as she saw.

It pains her to think on, and she tries to remember that it was a vision shown to her by Heaven. She must not take that lightly.

The knights come up to speak to her, and Margaret is relieved to welcome them in, to have an excuse to send Bramble away when she lingers too long. Sir Eva and Sir Laure make themselves at home in her chambers, and one of them is always with her. Never in full armor, and rarely carrying more than a dagger—in the lord’s house it would be an insult, an implication—but always just at her shoulder.

They offer also an excuse for Margaret to go riding. “You were right, you know,” she tells Sir Laure.

Laure glances at her, the wind tugging at the strings of her linen cap. “About what, my lady?”

“That not everything one can wish for is impossible,” Margaret says. “Though I confess I still don’t know how—but the Heavenly Queen showed it to me in a vision, so I suppose it must be.”

Sir Laure smiles faintly. “And you? How do you feel?”

“Afraid,” Margaret says. “Unsure.”

“That’s natural, I would think. It’s not a small thing.” Sir Laure clucks to her horse, stopping the mare as a cart crosses their path. “My brother is like you,” she says, leaning with her forearms across the front of the saddle. “Our father was relieved, actually, otherwise he wouldn’t have a son at all. I have four other sisters.”

“Would that we could all be so lucky,” Margaret mutters.

“He has a wife,” Sir Laure says. “They have an understanding, and three children.”

“How do they manage to avoid suspicion?”

“She picks men that have his coloring and look enough like him. It’s all quite tidy, really. Not that it seems you’ll have that problem.”

“No, I think I have a rather messier one,” Margaret says.

Sir Laure glances at her, looks her up and down. “You aren’t already…?”

“I am.”

Sir Laure lets out a low breath, and sits up to spur her horse forward as the cart moves out of their way. “I see why you’ll be making a journey. There are easier means, you know.”

“I do,” Margaret says. “But I can’t.”

“The Roses encourage it, I thought. That’s why so many of their brothers and sisters can make the medicine.”

“It isn’t about that,” Margaret says. “I can’t get rid of this one, just to take his.” To produce another child for Wulfric to bully and belittle. “I want this one. Her father wants her, too.”

Sir Laure looks askance at her as they ride, passing the first spring berries in the hedges. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Margaret feels the press of the moonstone against her skin. “He properly sees me, more than most people do. Or at least, he cares enough to look.” She thinks of him listening to her breath the first time they went to bed, when he couldn’t be sure she would speak.

Sir Laure nods, and they ride in silence for a while, out along the fields and houses. When the farmers see her, some of them make signs against evil, touching two fingers under each of their eyes to ward off the malevolent force of her gaze. Even if she weren’t with child, it would be safer to leave.

“Where will you go?” Sir Laure asks.

“I’d rather not say.” Eadwin has shown her on a map, but the village has never been big enough for mapmakers to actually put it down.

“Very well. But you do have a place?”

“Yes. I think so.” She wonders what Eadwin’s family will think. “At least for a little while. He’s fool enough to worry that I’ll want anything more than a warm place to sleep and enough to eat.” She thinks: I would sleep in a barn if he were with me. Give birth in a stable.

“It’s good that your desires are so practical,” Sir Laure says with a faint smile. “Your brothers will be here soon, will they not?”

“Yes, they sent my lord a message to say they were a week from Eagletop.” It’s Felix she most wants to see, Felix who always understood her more than the others. Felix who she hopes will understand her now. She will tell him: I tried to kill myself with the dagger you gave me so that I wouldn’t be a prisoner again.

“Your brother,” she asks Sir Laure. “How did he do it?”

#.

She is sitting by the fire in the great hall with the children when Wulfric comes stomping through in some sort of mood. Eadwin has been sitting by, reading. Aethelric, who seems to always be lurking about these days, has been laying on a bench sleeping off that afternoon’s drink. Laure and Eva are playing cards, and complaining about the other’s habits and supposed cheating.

Wulfric surveys all this, surveys how little of a reaction there is to his entrance. Eadwin has stood, the knights pause their game to mutter a cursory m’lord, and Everard has shifted suddenly closer to Margaret. His dog Blossom lifts her head, alert and watchful. Wulfwyn bows her head closer to her stitching. Mildred, who as usual is under the table, looks up to see why everything has gone quiet.

Margaret lifts her head from her book for only a moment, and looks back. She is reading one of Lady Anna’s old books, a discourse on marriage by Mother Julieta Dealuz, in particular her thoughts on the responsibilities husbands bear to their wives. A man should consider his relationship to his wife to be a reflection of his relationship with the Heavenly Mother. It is said that before He was slain, the Lord of Heaven was not above or below the Queen but always at Her side. So too a man should not consider himself to be above or below his wife, but her equal partner in all things. In this way he will please the Queen of Heaven, and such a marriage shall be always more harmonious than an unequal marriage.

Wulfric stalks through the middle of everyone and kicks Blossom so hard she yelps. Margaret snaps her book shut as Everard snatches up his dog. “Would it kill you not to act like an animal?”

The room goes completely still. Wulfric turns to look at her, she can almost see the thunderhead in his eyes. “What did you say?”

Aethelric sits up at the table, wild-eyed.

“What harm has the dog ever done except to annoy you?” Margaret asks, angry. She clutches the book to keep her hands from shaking. “You’re no better at minding your temper than a goat. It’s unbecoming.”

This, apparently, is the last straw for Wulfric. He seizes her arm, dragging her stumbling out of the chair.

“My lord—” Eadwin tries, and Sir Laure and Sir Eva are on their feet, blocking Wulfric’s path.

“Pardon, my lord,” Sir Eva says, “but I’m going to have to ask you to unhand the lady.”

“She is not your wife yet,” Sir Laure says, “and until her family arrives, she is in the care of the church.”

“She is in my house,” Wulfric snaps.

“My lord,” Laure says, with a smile as cold as ice, “I would hate to cause an incident.”

Margaret jerks her arm out of Wulfric’s grasp. “Beast,” she mutters.

Wulfric drives the back of his hand across her face, and stars dance in front of her eyes. Sir Eva takes her arms as Sir Laure steps between them and Wulfric, her knuckles white around the hilt of her dagger. Aethelric swears aloud.

“You had best learn to control your tongue, witch,” Wulfric spits as the knights take her out of the hall. The last thing Margaret hears before the door swings shut is Wulfric bellowing at Everard to take the damned dog somewhere else.

“That was unwise,” Laure mutters as they take her up to her chambers.

Margaret runs the tip of her tongue along her lip, feeling the sting of the new split. “Felt good, though.” Terrifying. But good.

Her fingers are clutched so tightly around the book that they ache.

#.

The man without a name

He’s staring discontentedly at his own reflection when Eadwin comes up. He keeps moving his hair—Margaret’s hair—to try and recreate how it would look if it were shorter, as he saw in the vision. Laure and Eva, having left their cards in the great hall, have been talking to each other in their own tongue, and if he concentrated he could probably understand them, but he’s lost in his thoughts.

Eadwin stands in the outer chamber, looking at him, and she—Margaret—thinks she should say something, but she doesn’t know what, and he—the one without a name—doesn’t want to.

“Why on earth did you provoke him?” Eadwin asks.

“He shouldn’t have kicked the dog,” he says flatly, turning away from the mirror because if he doesn’t, he will start to become Margaret again and he doesn’t want to let her back just yet. “Perhaps he should want to be rid of me.”

“Wulfric doesn’t let go,” Eadwin says. “He keeps or he destroys. If he let go, it would be a great deal easier to resolve things.”

He, the unnamed one, draws a breath through his nose. “If Aethelric had any backbone or principle, he’d shield the children.”

Eadwin lowers his voice. “I would not speak so of a man who wants you safely away from here almost as much as I do.”

He scoffs to think Aethelric gives a damn what happens to him, to Margaret.

“The day after I brought you here, Aethelric told me kindness would be chasing you out of Eagletop with a whip,” Eadwin says. “He loved Lady Anna as a sister, he took her death almost as hard as her children did. Now that you’ve had a taste of what Wulfric is like when his pride is injured, will you please avoid making any more cuts?”

He shrugs his shoulders. Margaret would make the assent, even if she didn’t want to.

Eadwin lets out an aggrieved sigh, drawing a hand down his face.

“I am tired of shrinking and hiding,” the unnamed man says quietly.

Eadwin considers him in silence. “There is no courage in baring your belly to an enemy’s sword,” he says. “I am just asking you to hold on for a few more days.”

He chews the inside of his lip, and finally, he nods. He wants to be away from here.

Eadwin steps closer, raises a hand halfway between them, as though he can’t quite bring himself to touch the other in front of the knights. “Are you alright?”

“It’s no worse than when one of my father’s hounds smacked his head into mine and I bit my lip open,” he says, tilting his head up to show Eadwin.

Eadwin sighs, pressing his palms together in front of his face. “I thought I was going to kill that man.”

“I would have liked to see it.” He reaches out to take Eadwin’s hand, since Eva and Laure already know. “You’re the one I ought to be scolding into controlling your temper.”

Eadwin gives him an irritated grimace, but it doesn’t last. Eadwin squeezes his hand. “Do I have to advise you to take dinner in your rooms?”

“My pride would prefer not to, but for the sake of my nerves, I will.” He holds up his hands, finally steady. “I was quivering like a leaf.”

Eadwin takes one hand, kisses his fingers. “Will you be alright? I intend to go see what sort of sermon I need to give Lord Wulfric.”

“Yes, I will be alright.” He wishes Eadwin could stay. “Do what you have to.”

He watches Eadwin go, and Sir Laure leans back in her seat, pulling her hands behind her head. “By the by, does he know about your apparent revelation?”

“He does.” He, the unnamed, sinks into a chair and lets out a breath. A hand falls to his middle. He had expected worse than that strike. It had felt good to say what he thought. He would have liked to throw the book at the back of Wulfric’s head, if that wouldn’t have risked it ending up in the fire.

When Margaret was a girl she had always been fiery, it had made her father furious. He thinks now, of course. It was only time that let us be beaten down, made afraid. Her father never even laid a hand on her.

He hopes that beating down doesn’t happen to Wulfwyn.

#.

Wulfric is in a rage. He has been pacing around the hall, ranting about Margaret for several minutes, and Eadwin has not tried to say anything because he wouldn’t be able to. Aethelric has made a few attempts, and been shouted over. Wulfric also has a number of things to say about the knights, which Eadwin hopes will leave his head as soon as he leaves this room because it is an impressive act of profaning and it is not something he desires to have lingering in the back of his mind when he next sees those women. These are not words he feels he will ever have need to know again.

“She’s coddling that boy, and for what?” Wulfric demands. Aethelric has his elbows on the table, massaging his temples with both hands. “He’s not her son. He’ll be a man soon enough, if he can ever become a man. To speak to me that way, in my own house—”

“Then don’t kick the fucking dog!” Aethelric shouts, his voice for a moment almost summoning the ghost of their father out of the grave. “Fiery angels, that’s all she asked you to do. But who would you be, if you couldn’t bully a nine year old child and a woman?”

Eadwin watches the brothers descend into a contest of noise for a few moments before he goes to the fire to pick up the iron poker and slams it down on the silver tray that had been left out from Aethelric’s drinking. It leaves a dent in the metal, but it means Wulfric finally falls silent.

“Are you done?” he asks, like he’s scolding boys at the abbey. At their silence, he points at Wulfric with the poker. “My lord, you sent me to find you a very particular kind of woman, which I did. If you have changed your mind, then I do not see how in good conscience I can reassure her that she should still marry you after that display. If you want another kind of wife, let this one go.”

“And what am I to tell her family?” Wulfric asks. “What am I to say to my peers?”

“I don’t think it will surprise anyone that a woman couldn’t abide being around you,” Aethelric says.

“My lord, you may tell them that you believe she is a witch for all I care,” Eadwin says, “but if you do not want her then do not marry her.”

It’s perhaps the first time in sixteen years that Eadwin’s seen Wulfric look truly angry at him. He’s spent sixteen years placating and choosing his silences and learning the vagaries of the creature that is Wulfric, this is the first time Eadwin has tried to tell him what to do.

Wulfric throws the chair at the end of a table halfway across the room. If the servants know what’s good for them they’re listening closely, to know what kind of distance to keep from their lord. “She’s not a witch,” Wulfric says, “what she is a bitch that’s been allowed to get too bold.”

Eadwin has to keep her away from him.

“You kick a bitch enough times and eventually she’ll bite first,” Aethelric says. “You think you’re the first one? Brother Eadwin already told us about her father. I imagine she’s had enough of men like you.”

Eadwin wishes very much that Aethelric would be silent, but this incident seems to have gotten under Aethelric’s skin in a way that nothing has for some time. “For fuck’s sake, Wulfric, when will it end? When will you be a big enough man you don’t have to make your wife and children smaller?”

“Be quiet!” Wulfric bellows.

“My lord Aethelric,” Eadwin says, in the most level voice he can manage. “I must ask you to leave us.” Please, he thinks. Before you say something we’ll both regret.

Aethelric’s face contorts for a few moments, and he sweeps his hand through the goblet on the table sending it clattering to the floor. A trickle of dark wine spills out onto the stone as he storms to the door, and slams it shut behind him.

“Arrogant child of a man,” Wulfric says. “He’s lucky he’s my brother.”

Eadwin lowers the point of the poker to the floor, but does not let it go. “My lord, I must again insist that if you do not want Lady Margaret for your wife then you must not marry her.”

“I have already come to an agreement with her brother. To renege now would be dishonorable.”

Eadwin half wishes Wulfric knew that the new Lord Henry only came to that agreement because he felt his sister had given him no choice. “My impression of the Becketts is that they care dearly for their sister, and they would rather have her back than have her in a marriage that is detestable to both of you. Better to break it off sooner. She is young, she may yet make other arrangements. You are not so old yourself, there is still time to find another.”

Wulfric shakes his head. “I will not have people say I was cowed by rumor and superstition, or that I was unmanned by a woman in a hunt.”

“So instead you will devote your misery to increasing hers,” Eadwin says, “and that of your maidservants, to boot. I understand Bramble will soon bless you with another bastard.”

Wulfric scowls at him. “You’ve grown to have too much of an ear for gossip, Brother.”

“When I am so tied to this house over my duties at the abbey, I have no choice,” Eadwin says. “If you feel my integrity as a Brother of the Moon has been compromised, it is because I have not lived a properly monastic life in over a decade. But I will tell you this, as your counsel: if there is any desire in you to align your actions with the will of Heaven, it is not in tormenting Lady Margaret.”

“So this, too, is my fault.”

Eadwin swallows a curse. “My lord,” he says, “what I mean is that in order to serve as I have, certain compromises have had to be made. It would be the same for any brother or sister counseling any lord or lady as I have counseled you. I must be aware of what is going on in your house.” And of course, he must hear that Wulfric has not denied that the poor girl is with child, which leads him to a number of conclusions about how long Bramble has been in Wulfric’s bed.

“My lord it will not matter how pious your wife is if you hate each other,” Eadwin says. “This disharmony is a warning from Heaven.” It is a desperate attempt, but he thinks it is not impossible.

“How pious can she be, a woman who hunts?” Wulfric asks.

It is always going to come back to that hunt, Eadwin thinks. That everyone saw Margaret return with enormous success that Wulfric did not have. “If you do not want her, my lord, then send her home.”

“No,” Wulfric says flatly. “I have made the agreement with her brother, and it is clear her line is good, even if her raising hasn’t been. I will not make that mistake.”

Eadwin still feels the weight of the iron poker in his hand and he thinks: I could beat this man to death. He would not lose any sleep over it. His father dead in the mud: drowned, with broken bones. “A woman is not a temperamental horse to be broken, my lord.”

“They have more in common than you might think,” Wulfric says. “I will not discuss this further. Good day, Brother.”

Eadwin’s hand tightens around the iron, but he sets it back in its hook and leaves with his temper reined in so tightly he expects something to snap. He is glad that Margaret is not alone.

He finds Aethelric just outside the walls, a bottle of what Eadwin is sure is a very expensive imported wine in his hands. “It didn’t work, did it?” Aethelric asks, taking a swig.

“No,” Eadwin says. “Of course it didn’t.”

Aethelric offers him the bottle, and Eadwin considers it a moment before he sighs and takes it.

“I’ll do what I can,” Aethelric mutters. “She only has what, a few days left before her brothers arrive?”

“Yes.”

“Do you suppose they’ll be of any help?”

“Not of the kind she wants.”

Aethelric laughs softly. “No, I suppose they’d sooner put her in a convent.” He sighs, bending forward to put his head on his arms, over his knees. “I know they can’t be right, those that say everything in the world functions according to some perfect plan from the Queen of Heaven, because what sort of perfect plan would make Wulfric the way that he is?”

“Those that argue that are often the counselors of kings,” Eadwin says. “Which is to say they’re even more compromised than I am.” He hands the bottle back to Aethelric. “I’ll leave you to waste your brother’s wine on your own.”

“Would that I could drink enough for an army,” Aethelric says, sitting up to take it. “I take it you’re leaving for the day.”

“I can only patiently handle his lordship for so long,” Eadwin says. “I will see you in the morning, when hopefully my prayers have softened my temper.”

“Not too much, I hope,” Aethelric says. “I thought you were going to bash his head in with that poker.” He says it like he wishes Eadwin had.