#arseling music challenge

[madamquacklemore]

Arseling music challenge-Let you love me

a/n so this is for the arseling music challenge @carlya65 song Let you love me by Rita Ora. A bit of a different spin on the actual song itself hope you all enjoy :D

Uhtred could never sleep the night before a battle and this night was no exception. He tossed and turned but sleep would not come. The sun had begun to rise so he dressed and made his way towards a nearby stream. The outcome of this battle like Ethandun would decide the fate of the last free kingdom-Wessex. The future of the entire island lay on this very day. The plan was a sound one but depended on too many factors for Uhtred's liking namely on their allies. The men of Cent and the men of Mercia. Mercia he thought Uhtred did not have much faith in Aethelred the turd his wife however. This last year Aethelflead had blossomed. She had the respect of her subjects and of her men and he couldn’t help but wonder what Gisela would think if she were watching them now. Would she be pleased he had found another destined for his heart? Would she be surprised and possibly even proud at how Aethelflead had grown? 

Uhtred recalled their time at her estate the young brave Lady was quite the warrior now and after that kiss he found his thoughts of her had developed and took on a different feeling altogether-desire. What a cruel joke the Gods were playing on him. That this wonderful woman should be cursed with such a man for a husband and that he now found himself desiring the one woman in the kingdom he could not have. If he were any other man a simple man he would gladly ill her husband and take her for himself. Like Erik he found himself prone to irrational and illogical thoughts. But he would not let them cloud his judgement. He could not. Was that weakness? Was it these feelings for her that made him vulnerable? Or was it strength that enabled him to resist her charms? He should never have been alone with her that morning but Uhtred always seemed to go looking for trouble or rather trouble always seemed to find him. Oh how he wished he could lie with her let her love him and he with her. Oh how he wished they lay together stay right until til the sun came up that he could have her as his one and only. What was the matter with him? He could find himself in Valhalla this very day yet despite all that was left to do, to avenge Ragnar's soul, he couldn’t help but think of those lips and how he longed to be able to let her love him.

@geekandbooknerd @itzmegaaaaaaan @therealcalicali @ariellostatci @tesstrash @carlya65 @xthezodiacage @sprinklesthrows17 @medievalfangirl

@ceridwenofwales  @miss-artemis-wild   @laketaj24

[chamaquito-v1]

The Hipster

I have hate

**I wrote this article in 2013 for my college newspaper, I was such a different person then.**

Ah, the hipster. The stylishly disaffected breed of twenty-somethings whose aura of irony covers Williams — well, just about everywhere. The hipster haunts every street, campus, and café, creating nostalgia for times and things never personally experienced. Most people encounter this contemporary urban clown, hijacking out-of-date fashions, mechanisms, and hobbies, responding in ridicule.

John Molson from the School of Business, Concordia University at Arsel and Helen Churchill Professor in the Marketing Department of the Wisconsin School of Business Thompson, the beats of the ’50s and hippies of the ’60s and ’70s, both of which had an admirable authenticity about them, gave rise to “the millennial hipster,” which “came to be represented as a super consumer of trends and as a new, and rather gullible, target market that consumes cool rather than creating it.”

Generally, psychologists who study consumers understand that people are largely motivated to spend money not just on things that they materially need, but that reinforces their identity. They purchase not only goods and services, but mythologies. Imagining themselves as rugged, rebellious patriots, they buy a Harley-Davidson. Imagining themselves as respected and affluent, they buy a Lexus. Hipsters, though, follow a different archetype. Their problem is that their purchases tend to place them within a category whose mythology they despise. That’s right: Nobody likes hipsters, not even hipsters.

So allow me to deconstruct, first and foremost, that hipsterism is about things and materialism such as Pink Floyd’s discography on vinyl as well an iPhone packed with apps. Throw in a steady certainty that your tastes are superior to everyone else’s, and you’re on your way to establishing a hipster aesthetic. The second element is imitation, the mixture, and patchwork of elements from pop culture to create sensibility. Whether it be the entire film career of Wes Anderson or house remixes of your favorite records, imitation is essential to hipsterism. Finally, there’s irony, a way for hipsters to emotionally distance themselves from sincerely appreciating things.

In Emerging Adulthood, Jeffrey Jensen Arnett offers a handy numbered list of features that he sees as characterizing “emerging adulthood”:

It is the age of identity exploration, of trying out various possibilities, especially in love and work.

It is the age of instability.

It is the most self-focused age in life.

It is the age of feeling in-between, in transition, neither adolescent nor adult.

It is the age of possibilities when hope flourishes when people have an unparalleled opportunity to transform their lives.

Relating contemporary aesthetics to “emerging adulthood” might give some social background to recent art-theory hand-wringing that the pattern of “post-modernism” — a term that, for all its limitations, still had some critical and intellectual juice in it — has given way to the looser, merely descriptive term “contemporary art.” The two things seem a lot alike — just the way the experimentation of contemporary young people looks a lot like the angst and soul-searching of their parents in the sixties and seventies. The difference is that the experimentation has become a norm that is passively inhabited, not a territory to be claimed.

Hipsters produce irritation in me, one that until recently I could not explain. I realized they provoke me because they are, despite the distance from which I observe them, an amplified version of myself. And regarding the hipster’s ironic “appreciation” of things that are not traditionally considered cool, I’d argue that some hipsters do sincerely appreciate all of the aforementioned, either as a form of nostalgia or as a celebration of the culture they’ve been instructed to avoid.

Let’s get real: For every cynical slacker sitting around ironically watching Flight of the Conchords, there’s a legitimate artist who’s working their arse off making something worthwhile. There’s no ironic detachment, for example, to the music that band TV on the Radio produce. They are artists too, and yes, they are cool. And perhaps it should go without saying, but hipster profiling is about as effective as racial profiling. Owning a pair of skinny jeans doesn’t make someone cool, but it doesn’t make them a “hipster scumbag” either.

Here’s the thing — as fatigued as we all may be, hipsters, are here to stay. They’ve been far too exposed to be considered an “underground” or “countercultural” movement anymore; the hipster aesthetic has been aided by advertisers and the mainstream media, and they have only managed to grow in number.

After all, in the rubble of this fury, what remains for artists and bohemians who are legitimately trying to be part of a counterculture? One might get the sense that if Jimi Hendrix were to show up in Echo Park today, he’d be publicly mocked in a style-section piece on blipsters for wearing a feathered fedora. Critics continue to complain that we live in an era where all art is derivative and lacks substance, but if Hendrix, Duchamp, and Warhol were alive today, we’d be doing all we could to hinder their self-expression, dismissing them as hipsters.

There’s no shortage of hipsters worthy of our mocking, but our challenge is to make the distinction between the artists and the posers. Otherwise, when the next generation finds its Jackson Pollock or Dorothy Parker, we’re likely to stifle their talents with our misappropriated cynicism; or worse, we’ll turn them into a joke. http://zeyneparsel.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/arsel-thompson.pdf

Not caring is a plague. the disease can be traced back to the Fonz and James Dean. They made women swoon for them by simply not caring and for an adolescent male, whatever can be done to get the ladies will be done. Since then, there’s been an internal competition between males to see who cares less as if we’re saying, “I get more ladies because I don’t care about anything.” This virus spread on to popular culture and birthed a subculture of people that completely remove themselves from the things they love and create a certain irony. AKA, the hipster.

Everyone has a different view and stereotypes of hipsters and frankly, it’s easy to get categorized as one. All you have to do is like an art-house film and/or introduce your friend to a musician he’s never heard of.

I’d like to introduce a new subculture, we’ll call it post-hipsterism. This new subculture is filled with people that care and are not afraid to show that they care. They like TV on the Radio because of their experimental sounds, not simply because no one ever heard of them. It’s filled with people who won’t stop liking something simply because everyone else likes it (Theoretically, isn’t that what you want? To have things in common with others?) When you ask someone if they’ve seen a show on Netflix, it’ll be because you genuinely want to introduce them to a fantastic story; not shame them for allegedly living under a rock.

This new movement is based on caring. Not only legitimately caring about yourself and your tastes, but caring for the consequences of your actions and how they affect your fellow humans.

[madamquacklemore]

Music Challenge-Perfect

a/n so this part of the Arseling’s music challenge! @geekandbooknerd song Perfect by Ed Sheeran. So it's no easy task writing a beautiful romantic song to fit the mind of a ferocious Saxon killing Dane but I do lie a challenge. To guesses who the perfect couple are in this oneshot are? 

My first non Finan story.. *deep breath* 

Young Ragnar leaned against the wall of his cell, grateful for the privacy for it wouldn't be long before the guards would bring them out to spend the day in their cages. Dangling there for every Saxon to see, Brida had played along with it at first spitting and yelling Danish insults at them but even she soon got bored of tormenting Christians. How did it come to this? How was brother pitted against brother? The once mighty Earl Guthrum becoming Christian? Ragnar stared across his cell to look at the woman he loved and wondered what was going through her mind. Probably the cutting off of Alfred's balls and the ramming of them down Uhtred's throat she colourfully told him the last time Ragnar asked. "Something funny Ragnar?" she snapped. "I was about to ask you what was on your mind then I remembered what you said last time I was foolish enough to ask." he chuckled. Brida glared at him for a moment before snorting laughter herself and crawled as far as her chain would allow her to reach for her beloved's hand. Ragnar copied her and together through the bars they held hands. Who would have thought it? Little Brida, to have been that woman who was meant for him? He remembered that night in the woods where he first saw her as grown woman as a warrior. Who would have thought it that they would be humping a month later. He recalled that night with a smile on his face, how perfect she looked that night still covered in Saxon blood after a well deserved victory, where it had been she who had approached him in one of the Saxon’s holy houses no less. How perfect she looked even now chained to the wall of a Saxon prison. His Brida. He made a vow that when they were free he would marry her kill kjartan take his fortress at Dunholm for their themselves and have children of their own. They were fighting against all odds but he knew they'd be alright because he had Brida and tonight as was every night she was wild angry and perfect. 

@laketaj24 @medievalfangirl @ariellostatci @geekandbooknerd @therealcalicali  @xthezodiacage @tesstrash @ceridwenofwales @carlya65 @itzmegaaaaaaan @miss-artemis-wild @sprinklesthrows17 

[madamquacklemore]

Attention my fellow arselings!

Right so I do love my music (anyone reading my ff Of love and War is probably sick of music lyrics #sorrynotsorry) anywho so just an idea what about a music recommendation thread? Where we take turns throwing out a song and write a fic any theme any characters within the last kingdom ‘verse? 

Open to all-writers or not :D 

@geekandbooknerd @itzmegaaaaaaan @therealcalicali @ariellostatci @xthezodiacage @sprinklesthrows17 @medievalfangirl @tesstrash

@laketaj24

[madamquacklemore]

Chapter 3 A tale of Tales

A/N this will feature moments from the series s03 e05 so you have been warned of spoilers! Again than you all for your feedback much appreciated and as ever i loo forward to your thoughts! When writing I find music helps set the tone for a particular scene or character. So here is this chapter’s inspiration:

Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids Shaking through my spine and down through my ribs No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden ......No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world Blinding-Florence and the Machine Destiny is all arselings!

Finan POV "Easy Lil," Finan stood behind her straightening out her arm. Crouching down he added, "Now see your target and slow slowly slow-ugh!" Liliwen had pulled back the arrow with such force she winded him. She released the arrow not even looking at it,instead she glanced up at him. Sihtric and Osferth who had been watching the lesson laughed at him. "I'm fine child," he ruffled her hair. Liliwen stuck her tongue out at the other two men and moved to get her arrow which had not been too far off the target. A foreign tongue called out to them Finan couldn't help but smile as he watched the child run to her mother? Protector? Friend? Sister? There was still so many questions left unanswered. In the early days of her recovery Finan took it upon himself to visit her,   more than once a day if he could. Under the pretence of watching Liliwen he would potter about the room and listen to their strange language. Sometimes he would go in alone tell her about his day and what mischief Liliwen had gotten into. Despite there time together there was so much  they needed to know so much he wanted to know. "Fin..he..ok." Liliwen struggled with the English words she told them proudly. The three men turned to look at the little girl. "She has been quite the student in both her studies and her use of weaponry." Sihtric explained to Tarian. "Yes lady we fear Finan's very life might be in danger." Osferth added. "More lie his heart," Sihtric whispered to Osferth as they watched the exchange between their friend and new found ally. "Should you really be up and about Tarian?" Finan asked flinching as an after thought this was the first time he had called her by her name and was not invited to do so despite his visits. Tarian stared at him momentarily."Finan.." she began "I have been bed bound for more than a week I grow restless." "Understandable anything I can do?" Again Finan chided himself he could only imagine what Sihtric and Osferth were saying as he could feel them watching. As was the young Liliwen standing between them head back and forth grinning broadly. "I wish to find the Lord Uthred there is much we need to discuss." she replied. "Indeed there is lady." a voice replied from behind Tarian. Appearing out of nowhere as only Uthred could do, he stood leaning against the pilar with the Aethflead accompanied by the lady that helped Tarian not a week ago. "I suggest we move this sensitive discussion to my parlour?" Aethelflead suggested indicating to her lady to take Liliwen away. This simple gesture spoke volumes as the child walked away willingly-no protest or refusal . For it had seemed the child had grown accustomed to these strangers favouring one in particular offering nothing more than a few welsh words and a "'bye Fin" before she left the courtyard.

***************************** Tarian's POV

The lady of Mercia's parlour was a beautiful room. Fine dark wood furniture, colours on the walls Tarian had never seen before and soft furnishings there was also a fire to welcome them and ale waiting. Standing with her back against the fire, hands placed uncertainly by her side, she looked to Aetheflead seated at her table and the Lord Uthred standing behind her. "Where shall I begin Lord Lady?" "Perhaps the start?" Aethflead replied "Who are you and how did you come to be here?" Tarian sighed and shut her eyes briefly gratefully taking the cup of ale Osferth offered. After muttering a word of thanks she began "Some years ago there was a battle on the edge of our lands between Dane and Celt. We defeated them but at great cost. A great Chief was killed and his daughter claimed by the victor. That woman was my mother. She was brought to the Danish stronghold I believe it to be halfway between our kingdom of Powys and Mercia. Some time later I was born." "So you are both Dane and Celt?" Uthred asked, Tarian nodded, "Who is your father? He must be of great importance for those men to go to such lengths." For not even the mightiest of Danes went near the Welsh border these days. Like the Scots it was re-known for being a mission of heavy losses with minimal reward. Whoever sent men that far West had money power and influence.

"Jarl Jurgen" "Thee Jarl Jurgen?" Aethflead asked. Tarian looked up in surprise "You no of him lady?" "Just who exactly is this Jarl Jurgen?" Finan asked. Before Tarian could explain Aethelflead interjected surprising just about everyone in the room with her vast knowledge of Dane politics. "Only one of the strongest powers of the Norse and Danish invasion. He commanded the biggest invasion of Northern Frankia and has since moved on to Ireland. Although there were rumours he was on our shores no one dared believe it."

"If the Danes and northmen were to ever unite under one king it would be this Jarl Jurgen. He is the most respected and trusted of the Dane leaders." Uthred added. “So basically he's like your brother with just a much bigger army?" Finan asked. Uthred nodded. "No offence lady but I hope to god he never does set back  down on these shores."

"If my father had an interest in this Island again we would now it by now." "Yet you were taken." As to Finan's response Tarian had no explanation. If he was back why did he not come back for her himself if she was that important to him worth that much to take in the first place. "I do not know his reasons." Tarian replied. "Nor do I remember much of him just that I hardly saw him as he was constantly away on raids. One night the estate was attacked my mother and I escaped with those who had raided the stronghold. It cost my mother her life. Up until recently I had believed we had been rescued and reunited with my mother's people. However now...Now I am not so sure." "No??" Uthred asked. “You now as well as I do Lord that Danes do not typically use poison." Which meant it was one of her own that wanted to kill her there was no doubt in anyone’s mind. "Jaesus does no one make squares anymore?" Finan joked. "First curses now poison arrows mother of divine sufferin'. What happen' ta killin' a man-or in your case a woman- in a fair figh' " offering much needed reprieve from their dark thoughts.

Once the laughter had died down, Tarian asked. "So now you now my story lord what now?" "We still do not know how you came to escape." Aethelflead asked giving Tarian the feeling she did not trust her. "I had a friend who was amongst them. That friend was killed helping us." Aethelflead apologised and gave her condolences. "Do you hold true to your oath?" Uthred asked. ”I will if Liliwen is kept safe." Tarian replied but she already knew the answer although they may not trust her they were good people they were not the type to serve up a lamb to the slaughter. "Why can't we just sent her back to her own people? Won't she be safe there?" Osferth asked. "'Cause, baby monk it wud be challenge in itself to get Lil back not mention she probably wudnt stay. Also not ta mention if Tarian was poisoned by her own people imagine what they would do to the child." Finan explained. "Am I righ'?" Tarian nodded then tilted her head to the side and examined the Irishman. Lil he called her..Finan has grown fond of her and she him. I knew i made the right decision.He is no fool either. "Is she your child?" Aethelflead asked. "No. She is not. I knew her mother. We were friends. About two years ago Liliwen witnessed her parents deaths when they tried to take her she took her first life and I the others. She had not spoken a word since last week." "A six year old killed a fully grown man?" "By sheer chance. When he grabbed her she had already taken his dagger the Dane tripped and fell he fell on to the weapon in her hand causing his death and nearly crushing her in the process. Whether it was the trauma of a parents deaths or taking a life at such a young age that rendered her mute I do not know." "Look  the important ting now is she alive she talking shes smilin' she's even gettin' along with us." Finan reached out in an attempt to comfort her. "Yes she is already getting along with my little Aelfwynn. I worried at first but she is very gentle." Aethflead smiled.

Blinking back tears that threatened to come down she brought herself back to the matter at hand. "So Lord Uthred? Lady Aethflead?" "I could use another warrior. Lady?" “The child will remain here. Her English is improving my ladies tell me." "She will earn her keep I promise you lady and as for your daughter she will guard her with her life." "Aye tha' she will Lady the child's already showin' promise as a warrior. Mus' be the Celt in 'er." Finan teased winking at Tarian.  Tarian laughed and for the first time in what felt like years like a great load had been taken from her shoulders and replaced with a strange warm feeling in her belly. A warm feeling she noticed that only seemed to increased whenever the handsome Irishman looked her way.

  As Tarian was now sworn in as part of Uthred's company Finan was tasked over the coming weeks with testing her battle skill and together they would train both Liliwen and Osferth. "So you don't use a shield lady like at all?" Finan asked as they gathered outside the walls of the estate the footsteps crunching on early snowfall. "No. Our tribe typically don't. We stick to our borders and when the enemy comes too close we attack from the trees. Or draw them into the forest and spring our traps. Shields would only slow you down." "That makes sense." Osferth replied. All three of them looked at him. "Well it does even I understand that much." he muttered. "We...t-te"Liliwen began picking up staff and shield. She was beginning to understand more words by the day. The workings of a child's mind never ceased to amaze Tarian. Only in her deepest desires late at night would she admit to herself a longing for a child of her own. A man she could live without but she longed to be a mother. Maybe that was why she took it upon herself to take care of Liliwen even if that meant she was now living away from home and her mother's family because of this. "Sound it out" Finan encouraged. "Tee teach! Teach you m-monk!" The three of them laughed. Liliwen was a charmer there was no doubt in that. "Ay lady baby monk is righ'. Trouble is not all our fightn' is done in the trees. You wanna fight with us then you will have to fight sword and shield." "Ah yes the infamous shield wall." Tarian replied taking the shield Finan handed her. Osferth pulled himself and Liliwen to a safe distance as they watched. "Now which is your sword arm?" "Both" she replied simply. "No I mean which arm is strongest." "Both." Tarian repeated. "A warrior is taught from Liliwen's age to have equal strength in both arms. If one is subdued the other is equal in its defence. Finan nodded. "Righ' you defend yourself and I'll attack." Tarian nodded but did not move Finan shrugged and went in for the attack. Tarian side stepped hitting Finan not hard enough to knock him to the ground but enough to throw him off balance. Quicly he regained his composure. Tarian held her shield up as she had seen the Saxon and Danish men do so many times and waited. They circled each other then out of nowhere it seemed Finan had manoevered himself in and around her defence knocking her to the ground. She had heard of his nickname "Finan the agile" and now she had seen for herself. There he sat on top of her his weight resting on his knees as he had her arms pinned above her head. It was not lost on Tarian that this was not the first time he sat atop of her. Forest green met deep brown eyes. She had never seen eyes quite so dark. They stared at each other Tarian could feel his grip loosening his face closed in on hers now a breath away. Tarian blinked where was his sword? Big mistake. She bit his hand and they tumbled as he cried out in pain. Gaining the upper hand she sat on top her hips on his legs either side her dagger that she had unsheathed from behind at his throat. "Do you yield Irishman?" "Aye lady you have won this round," he laughed that beautiful sound like as sweet as a song  Tarian was growing too fond off. Too fond for own liking, for her dear Gustaf was not long dead. It was if the memory of her fallen lover brought her back to the present she hopped up and off the Irishman. "You will forgive me Finan but I believe I am done for the day I do not wish to over exert myself."

************************

Finan POV *s03 e05 spoiler alert* Finan's jovial face now sobered "Yeah of course I-" Tarian walked away before he could finish his sentence. Liliwen and Finan exchanged looks before she followed her. What had just occurred between them? In that split second he recalled himself on top of her she wasn't resisting this time. How much he longed to kiss those full lips-audience or not. It was as if strayed into a dream and what a dream it had been. As with all good dreams reality came crashing down on him. She probably sense his longing and did not feel the same. What with having sworn herself to Uthred maybe she felt she could not refuse him? Finan made to go in after them to explain she owed him nothing, to tell her he expected nothing when Osferth called out to him. As he spun round In the distance he could make a figure on a horse striding towards them. Squinting into the distance he had a bad feeling about this. "Fetch Uthred tell him a woman is here to see him." "How can you tell its a woman?" "You have to ask?" The sight of Brida coming towards them seemingly on her own could only spell trouble. A million thoughts rushed to his head at once he would have to push his thoughts and dare he say longing? of Tarian for the moment. Duty came calling.

******************

Tarian’s POV   Tarian ignored the men hurrying to the horses. A single rider approached whatever it was she was sure Uthred's men were more than able. She needed to be alone. Was that selfish? Yes. Was she already breaking an oath she had just sworn? Possibly. What did she know of oaths? She had never sworn her life to one person before. Tarian's feet had minds of their own and they brought her to a Christian holy house at the far right of the estate. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had been inside one as a result of brave (and quite foolish) missionaries but only now did she truly appreciate how peaceful it was. Tarian sat at the far left corner not wanting to disturb the holy women, Liliwen beside her grasped her hand and said nothing. "I did not know you were Christian Tarian," a voice broke her through the mist that shrouded her minds After Lady Aethflead with her daughter Aelfwynn in tow blessed herself and the child mimicked her. Again Tarian felt that longing in her chest. Aethelflead look at her. "May we join you two?" Tarian nodded and moved down the bench for her. "I am not Christian but I find a strange sort of peace here. Many summers ago holy men came to our lands wishing to preach the word of your God. They were no threat our leaders knew this and permitted them to settle outside our borders but declined the invitation to convert. Several of us were fascinated especially those who had never seen peaceful foreigners up close before. It's how I learnt your language." "Ah I had wondered how you were able to speak our language as well. Well as I'm sure those priests told you and your people God's house is always open." Tarian did not mention what happened to the priests a year after they had settled it was probably best not to mention such things in their holy house. "As is mine. Something troubles you Tarian?" Aethelflead added. Tarian bit her lip. Where to begin? How could she tell the beautiful lady that she now found her heart torn in two. Guilt for having gotten Gustaf killed for knowing in her hearts of hearts that she may have given her body to him but never her heart and that he was killed for nothing? Or how despite only knowing the Irishman a short time Tarian felt something strange in her stomach it made her both sick and euphoric and in that short space of time they had known each other, even less time they had spent together Tarian found herself developing feelings for him. Feelings she could not recall having for Gustaf despite knowing him since she was an infant. Despite him risking everything when he would send secret messages to her warning her of Danes or confessing sweet nothings her heart was never truly his. "I feel I am conflicted." Tarian replied. It was as close to the truth as she could muster. "When we first met you in the forest you told us you had help escaping. Do you feel conflicted as that friend is now dead?" Tarian nodded eyes beginning to water she had never cried so much in her life. " "He was my lover." she added. "But I believe although his heart was mine my heart was not wholly for him. I find myself wracked with guilt as he died for nothing." She told Aetheflead of Gustaf's last words and allowed the tears to fall this time Aethelflead put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "From what you have told me he made his choice to keep you safe- keep you both safe. His choice was his own and he died a free man. If it is any consolation Tarian I know of what you speak. " Aethelflead replied and told the woman of which she had begun to think of fondly the story of her kidnapping . Of her love for Eric and how she knew in her heart of hearts that her daughter Aelfwynn was indeed Eric's and added how she had his smile something she had only dare tell Uthred. "And you murdered his killer his brother for revenge?" Liliwen said in their native tongue. Momentarily surprising Tarian yet again for the swift  comphrension the girl had of a language she did not yet fully speak . Aetheflead looked to Tarian who translated gently chiding the girl for not saying it in English. "Well at the time he was about to kill Uthred so I suppose you could  say i killed two birds with one stone" she laughed. The two women embraced one another and left the church arm in arm Aethelflead whispering of her pretty boy husband Aethelred the turd careful not to mention his actual name but the monicker they came up for him-pudding. Tarian translating certain parts for the Liliwen the four came to a halt when they saw the four men returning their horses to the stables. The female rider that had been announced was not with them and no one showed any obvious signs of injury yet why were they looking so grave? 

******************************

Finan's& Tarian's POVs Aethelflead lead the children away and motioned Uthred to follow her yet there Tarian stood waiting for them concern showing on her beautiful face. No trace of whatever had made her uncomfortable earlier. There was no denying it now I'm mad for her.  Finan shook himself silly after the news Brida just brought and the decision Uthred had made there was no time for such thoughts. "What has happened?" she asked meeting him halfway. "Uthred." He began "Uthred's brother is dead." Tarian thought for a moment she had heard of Uthred Danish family what was his name. "Ragnar was his name" Finan answered her unspoken words. "A good man you know for a Dane. Uthred believes it to be the curse. I fear we have a near impossible mission on our hands Tari. You have sworn yourself to a man who believes himself cursed." Tarian looked up at the use of her nickname only Liliwen called her that then again Finan had a habit of giving those close to him nicnames Baby Monk for example which she would be lying if she said she did not find it utterly adorable. 

"Listen Tarian..about earlier when we were sparring I just wanted ta say that if I made you feel that you owed or as a woman are expect-"

She took his hand in hers bringing his words and his heart to a standstill. Looking him in the eye she said "Firstly Irishman I have sworn myself curse or no curse so you had best bring me up to speed" she smiled. "And secondly Finan do you not know well enough by now? I do as I please. Whether it be as a  warrior or as a woman."

**************************

"He looks like he's been kicked by a horse what do you reckon she said to him?" Osferth asked Sihtric as he watched them walk hand in hand towards the hall.

"What do you think she said to him Osferth?" the young Dane laughed at Osferth’s reddening cheeks.

"What do you s'pose Uthred will say about this?"

"I do not believe I would care if two warriors were to hump each other as long as it was not against their will" said none other than Uthred behind them.

"Oh shi-sorry Lord you scared me." Osferth stammered.

"Come now baby monk there is much to prepare and you should not be spying. It is ungodly." Uthred teased as the three men made their way to the hall. Both men knew their Lord was putting on a brave face so they laughed all the same for who knew what dangers tomorrow would bring.

@geekandbooknerd @laketaj24 @sprinklesthrows17 @ariellostatci  @itzmegaaaaaaan @tesstrash @miahelizaaabeth 

[ceridwenofwales]

Just a few paragraphs were enough to make me almost cry. It's so bittersweet to see him so hopeful about their future when we think about what would happen later on in the show.

He made a vow that when they were free he would marry her, kill Kjartan, take his fortress at Dunholm for themselves and have children of their own.

I loved the part she mentioned the desire to torture Uhtred and Alfred. So in character and funny.

Music Challenge-Perfect

a/n so this part of the Arseling’s music challenge! @geekandbooknerd song Perfect by Ed Sheeran. So it’s no easy task writing a beautiful romantic song to fit the mind of a ferocious Saxon killing Dane but I do lie a challenge. To guesses who the perfect couple are in this oneshot are? 

My first non Finan story.. *deep breath* 

Young Ragnar leaned against the wall of his cell, grateful for the privacy for it wouldn’t be long before the guards would bring them out to spend the day in their cages. Dangling there for every Saxon to see, Brida had played along with it at first spitting and yelling Danish insults at them but even she soon got bored of tormenting Christians. How did it come to this? How was brother pitted against brother? The once mighty Earl Guthrum becoming Christian? Ragnar stared across his cell to look at the woman he loved and wondered what was going through her mind. Probably the cutting off of Alfred’s balls and the ramming of them down Uhtred’s throat she colourfully told him the last time Ragnar asked. “Something funny Ragnar?” she snapped. “I was about to ask you what was on your mind then I remembered what you said last time I was foolish enough to ask.” he chuckled. Brida glared at him for a moment before snorting laughter herself and crawled as far as her chain would allow her to reach for her beloved’s hand. Ragnar copied her and together through the bars they held hands. Who would have thought it? Little Brida, to have been that woman who was meant for him? He remembered that night in the woods where he first saw her as grown woman as a warrior. Who would have thought it that they would be humping a month later. He recalled that night with a smile on his face, how perfect she looked that night still covered in Saxon blood after a well deserved victory, where it had been she who had approached him in one of the Saxon’s holy houses no less. How perfect she looked even now chained to the wall of a Saxon prison. His Brida. He made a vow that when they were free he would marry her kill kjartan take his fortress at Dunholm for their themselves and have children of their own. They were fighting against all odds but he knew they’d be alright because he had Brida and tonight as was every night she was wild angry and perfect. 

@laketaj24 @medievalfangirl @ariellostatci @geekandbooknerd @therealcalicali  @xthezodiacage @tesstrash @ceridwenofwales @carlya65 @itzmegaaaaaaan @miss-artemis-wild @sprinklesthrows17 

[therealcalicali]

This was beautifully written❤. I love whenever I get a chance to read a character's inner POV. Poor Uhtred. At least he has something to look forwad to should he live.💕😍💕

Arseling music challenge-Let you love me

a/n so this is for the arseling music challenge @carlya65 song Let you love me by Rita Ora. A bit of a different spin on the actual song itself hope you all enjoy :D

Uhtred could never sleep the night before a battle and this night was no exception. He tossed and turned but sleep would not come. The sun had begun to rise so he dressed and made his way towards a nearby stream. The outcome of this battle like Ethandun would decide the fate of the last free kingdom-Wessex. The future of the entire island lay on this very day. The plan was a sound one but depended on too many factors for Uhtred’s liking namely on their allies. The men of Cent and the men of Mercia. Mercia he thought Uhtred did not have much faith in Aethelred the turd his wife however. This last year Aethelflead had blossomed. She had the respect of her subjects and of her men and he couldn’t help but wonder what Gisela would think if she were watching them now. Would she be pleased he had found another destined for his heart? Would she be surprised and possibly even proud at how Aethelflead had grown? 

Uhtred recalled their time at her estate the young brave Lady was quite the warrior now and after that kiss he found his thoughts of her had developed and took on a different feeling altogether-desire. What a cruel joke the Gods were playing on him. That this wonderful woman should be cursed with such a man for a husband and that he now found himself desiring the one woman in the kingdom he could not have. If he were any other man a simple man he would gladly ill her husband and take her for himself. Like Erik he found himself prone to irrational and illogical thoughts. But he would not let them cloud his judgement. He could not. Was that weakness? Was it these feelings for her that made him vulnerable? Or was it strength that enabled him to resist her charms? He should never have been alone with her that morning but Uhtred always seemed to go looking for trouble or rather trouble always seemed to find him. Oh how he wished he could lie with her let her love him and he with her. Oh how he wished they lay together stay right until til the sun came up that he could have her as his one and only. What was the matter with him? He could find himself in Valhalla this very day yet despite all that was left to do, to avenge Ragnar’s soul, he couldn’t help but think of those lips and how he longed to be able to let her love him.

@geekandbooknerd @itzmegaaaaaaan @therealcalicali @ariellostatci @tesstrash @carlya65 @xthezodiacage @sprinklesthrows17 @medievalfangirl

@ceridwenofwales  @miss-artemis-wild   @laketaj24

[therealcalicali]

I loved it. Brida and Ragnar😍

Music Challenge-Perfect

a/n so this part of the Arseling’s music challenge! @geekandbooknerd song Perfect by Ed Sheeran. So it’s no easy task writing a beautiful romantic song to fit the mind of a ferocious Saxon killing Dane but I do lie a challenge. To guesses who the perfect couple are in this oneshot are? 

My first non Finan story.. *deep breath* 

Young Ragnar leaned against the wall of his cell, grateful for the privacy for it wouldn’t be long before the guards would bring them out to spend the day in their cages. Dangling there for every Saxon to see, Brida had played along with it at first spitting and yelling Danish insults at them but even she soon got bored of tormenting Christians. How did it come to this? How was brother pitted against brother? The once mighty Earl Guthrum becoming Christian? Ragnar stared across his cell to look at the woman he loved and wondered what was going through her mind. Probably the cutting off of Alfred’s balls and the ramming of them down Uhtred’s throat she colourfully told him the last time Ragnar asked. “Something funny Ragnar?” she snapped. “I was about to ask you what was on your mind then I remembered what you said last time I was foolish enough to ask.” he chuckled. Brida glared at him for a moment before snorting laughter herself and crawled as far as her chain would allow her to reach for her beloved’s hand. Ragnar copied her and together through the bars they held hands. Who would have thought it? Little Brida, to have been that woman who was meant for him? He remembered that night in the woods where he first saw her as grown woman as a warrior. Who would have thought it that they would be humping a month later. He recalled that night with a smile on his face, how perfect she looked that night still covered in Saxon blood after a well deserved victory, where it had been she who had approached him in one of the Saxon’s holy houses no less. How perfect she looked even now chained to the wall of a Saxon prison. His Brida. He made a vow that when they were free he would marry her kill kjartan take his fortress at Dunholm for their themselves and have children of their own. They were fighting against all odds but he knew they’d be alright because he had Brida and tonight as was every night she was wild angry and perfect. 

@laketaj24 @medievalfangirl @ariellostatci @geekandbooknerd @therealcalicali  @xthezodiacage @tesstrash @ceridwenofwales @carlya65 @itzmegaaaaaaan @miss-artemis-wild @sprinklesthrows17