When Una awoke, it was almost as if she was waking up in a dream. Una awoke on her back, the natural sleeping position of all warriors. She turned her head slightly and could see Alaric peacefully asleep at his side, his face directed toward her. Una turned her head back. She felt so strange laying there. Was she really alive? Una blinked a few times and suddenly felt her heart flutter. She could feel her body, still radiating in bliss. Una couldn't help but smile as she remembered what had happened. She slowly brought her hand to her face and gently traced her fingers over her lips. She peered back over at Alaric again. How was it possible that he kissed her, and why? Una never suspected it. She expected to be rejected. Una knew Alaric was not the type to use people, especially her. She knew that he was faithful.

Una smiled again and laughed to herself, thinking about it. The kiss, the way he held her body, the words he spoke. Una played it back in her head over and over again. With each passing time, she was further convinced it was real.

Now, an unfortunate reality has come to her attention. She had to leave Alaric now. It was sweet irony. Of all the people she loved, they left her. Now she would leave him to fight alongside his murderous uncle, Njord. Una knew this hour was rapidly approaching. She knew that these past few days, everyone was preparing. Last night, no one was out, for everything had been adequately prepared for battle. All that was left were the soldiers to awake this morning and get on their steeds, heading for the heart of Mercia.

Una took a deep breath, and she could feel her tears of sadness burning in her eyes. She slowly closed them, but they trembled as much as her lip. She was heartbroken, but she knew she had to go. Una slowly rose, careful not to wake Alaric. She knew if she woke him, it would be impossible to say goodbye. She stood up slowly, carefully. She turned and looked at him. He looked at peace laying there, as beautiful as ever. Una stood there, tormented by her heart and mind. She wanted to stay there next to him, but she knew where her duty was as a warrior. Her eyes were hot with tears, and her cheeks flushed. She was so frustrated. The longer she stood there gazing down at him, the more she wanted to stay.

"I'm sorry." Una mouthed and turned quickly.

She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. Her face was contorted in grief, anger, and happiness.

"It's okay," Una whispered to herself as she clenched her fists.

She took her first steps away from the bed. She felt different now. Her body ached as she made her way to the door.

"It was worth it," Una whispered to herself again with a smile.

Her tears came again as she smiled. She was so conflicted as she walked over to the door.

"To love you was one of my greatest joys thus far," Una mumbled as her voice cracked.

Una held her hand over her mouth as she tried to conceal her wail of sadness.

"Forgive me." Una sobbed silently to herself.

She could hear Alaric stir. She turned around to see him flip over on his other side, oblivious of the fact that Una was leaving him. Una tried to hold that image in her head, the last glimpse of his face before she would go. She felt the chain of her pendant on her chest growing cold from the exposed air. She touched it, remembering Frey, Alaric's twin he never got to meet.

"It belongs to you," Una mumbled to herself as she took it off.

She dangled the beautiful pendant in front of her. The dainty chain wrapped around her fingers like a thread of silk. It had laid across where her heart was, a reminder of the promise she brings to all. Now she lays it gently on the arm of the chair next to her. The light catches it so perfectly that the red gem casts a shimmering reflection across the ceiling. It will be for Alaric's promise to keep now, to be the greatest king he could ever be for his people. He was the rightful and the true king. It was his father's pendant, after all.

"Until next time, if my prayers are heard," Una muttered as she turned around.

She gently opened the door and walked out, slowly closing it behind her without looking back. She let her last tear fall from her cheek. Then she stood tall and took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. She walked down the hall nude, knowing she wouldn't walk into anyone. Everyone was indeed still asleep.

Una made her way down the hall and found Njord's chambers. She slowly opened the door and walked in. Njord was sitting there in his bed, staring up at Una. His wife was soundly asleep, curled up in the blankets.

"You're up early," Njord said softly, standing up.

He was nude, too but didn't seem to care, just like Una. He walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out some pants and a long purple tunic.

"Kings and Queens have it the worst. We must go to bed the latest, and we must be the first to rise." Una whispered.

"Here." Njord walked up to Una and handed her a pile of clothes.

"Thank you," Una uttered and smiled.

"You won't be thankful until I'm dead," Njord whispered and walked back to the wardrobe and pulled out more clothes.

Una stood there and watched as he intricately went through each article of clothing, assessing it closely. As Una was lacing up her pants, she couldn't help but notice that Njord had many scars across his body, far more than Una remembered. Many were cut into his tattoo, so she knew they were recent.

"Take these. They may be a little large, but your feet will swell in battle. There's nothing stronger than boots made from a Dane cordwainer." He smiled and threw her a pair.

"You wear nothing with these?" Una asked.

"They're lined with sheep's wool." He smiled, putting on a pair of pants.

"Ahh, these are much nicer than mine. Hopefully, I can return them in one piece." Una laughed, looking in the boots.

"You seem very bubbly for someone who is about to witness a battle so brutal that blood will gather up as high as your knees," Njord said, expressionless.

"Thank you," Una said

As she put them on, they felt extremely comfortable, heavy but maneuverable. Njord put on his undershirt and tunic. He then grabbed his heavy cloak, saying nothing to his wife as he left out the door. She began to stir at the sounds of Njord walking around. He didn't seem to care if she woke up or not by this point.

"Make sure you shut the door. I don't want Henrik to awaken from soldiers moving out." Njord said.

Una nodded as she slung her tunic over her, carefully pulling the linen undershirt down beneath it. It went down slightly past her knees, but it was better than fighting in a dress. She did that only once, but never again. Someone stabbed her dress into the ground with their sword, and Una was caught like a dog on a rope. She had to cut her dress to free herself.

"Of course," Una whispered back as she laced the front of her thick wool tunic closed.

Njord left Una in the room alone. He didn't seem as anxious as Una thought he would be. Then again, Njord has been in countless wars, and he was a murderer with no remorse. That makes more sense to Una why he doesn't seem to care. He was impassive to any situation, including war.

"Please, Una." A pitiful voice rang out.

"Oh, sorry to wake you," Una said in a hushed toned, turning around.

"It's no matter. I need to ask you a favor." Queen Britta said with a tender smile.

"Yes?" Una asked.

Britta threw her covers off and stood up. She took out an object that shined even in the dim light.

"Listen to me." She said, grabbing Una's hands and placed the object in one of them.

Una could hear Henrik mumbling as he woke up too.

"Take this." Britta's eyes were bright.

Una looked down and gasped at the sight of a beautiful dagger place in her hands. Its blade looked sharper than anything she had ever seen before. It appeared to be made of crucible steel, like the old sword she used to have, the sword that actually belonged to Alaric's father originally. This blade's hilt was made of intricately carved ivory.

"I want you to take this and pierce him to the heart." Britta folded Una's fingers over the blade.

"What?" Una exclaimed.

Una was shocked by this. Was Britta serious? Of all people, why would the Queen want him to be dead?

"In time, you will understand why you need to do this. Do this for all of us. The kingdom of Northumbria depends on you, Queen of Celts."

"Why are you doing this?" Una whispered.

"Many of us have tried, and no one has gotten close to him. Not even me, and I am his wife."

"His own kingdom?" Una said to herself, remembering the fresh scars on Njord's body.

"I hate him. You're not the only one. All of York, Jorvik, all of Northumbria. Alaric told me what he did to your family. You are not the only one, love. I am of east Anglia. My father died when I was young, so we moved here, and my mother became his second wife. She could bear him no children, so he blamed her and killed her. But how is it that I am here if my mother could bear no children to Njord, but could with my father? Think about that, Una." Britta bent her head down.

Una remembered how Frey talked of this woman, how bitter and cruel she was. Was it all an act?

"I don't want my son to grow up with him on the throne. I want him to be like his father, not a monster."

Una looked at her inquisitively, and she thought more in-depth about what she had just said.

"Your son..." Una said.

"Henrik is not Njord's son." She smiled.

Britta nodded at Una's obvious shock.

"It's true, so you must save us from this monster." Britta implored Una.

Una remembered how people called her a monster for so long. It stung a bit, but she remembered who the real monster was, Njord.

"What if I can't?" Una asked.

"Then his reign continues, and my boy will learn to be a tyrannical monster like him, and the cycle will continue. Your alliance with us will break, and everyone you have ever loved will be killed. Don't underestimate Njord. He's clever, and he will convince you to spare him as he did with me. Don't make that mistake like me, don't think twice." She insisted.

Una nodded her head in agreement.

"I understand," Una said as she put the dagger in her belt behind her back.

"Here," Britta said, walking over to Njord's wardrobe.

She pulled out a thick royal blue cloak lined with fleece.

"I know it's not Njord's. He has never worn it. It was the king's cloak before me. This is the only thing I have never seen him wear." Britta said.

"It must be that it was Henrik's grandfather's cloak, the king before Njord," Britta said, handing it to Una.

Una's eyes widened when she realized what she meant by that.

"Haha!" Una laughed.

She knew Frey wouldn't pass up an opportunity to be with his attractive stepmother, as demented as Una thought that sounded. However, she couldn't come up with any other explanation on how Henrik's grandfather was the deceased king.

"Is that humorous to you?" Britta said.

"No, No. I was just thinking of an old memory." Una said, remembering Frey as if it were yesterday.

It was indeed a tragedy that he couldn't be there with them today. It reminded Una of what she was fighting for, so things like his death won't happen again. Their transgressions against all of Bryttania will not be silenced any longer. The Mercians will pay for the countless innocent deaths they have inflicted.

"I promise you, and all of Bryttania, retribution will come," Una promised Britta.

Britta and Una said their goodbyes. After that, Una took one last look at the castle as she mounted her horse, packed for a three-day trip to Mercia. There is an outpost there on the border of Northumbria that will supply them further with armor and shields. They will attack from the north point and press down as Gareth's arms close them off from the south.

As the army left, Una trotted next to Njord. The entire time he was regaling Una of his triumphs, she couldn't think of anything other than Alaric. What was he thinking at this moment? Was he still asleep, in a dream more remarkable than this reality? She hoped he was not awake yet. She hated that thought of him waking up and finding Una not there next to him. She wonders how he will feel, how he will act when he does.

While Una was languishing over Alaric, he had already found her necklace by that point. He was staring at it. His heart shattered into a million pieces. He picked up the chain and held it in his hand. He didn't have the words to describe what he was feeling. His lips trembled, and his eyes squinted shut. He stood there and silently wept for Una. As soon as she came into his life, she left.

"She left about an hour ago." Alaric heard a voice as he turned.

Britta was opening the door, and she stared at Alaric with such empathetic eyes. Alaric stared back at her, barely able to keep his emotions in check.

"She's going to be okay, Alaric," Britta said, looking up at Alaric.

He stood there naked with the necklace in his hand. His face was contorted with grief.

"Come here." She said, wrapping her arms around him, not caring about his nudity.

He held her back in his arms, trying so hard not to cry.

"She will save us, all of us," Britta said with a tear tracing down her cheek.

"I know...I... I don't know what to do now." Alaric said with broken words.

"Do what you were born to do," Britta said, letting their embrace go.

"What am I good for other than crying and killing," Alaric said, staring down at the necklace.

Britta took the necklace out of his hand and held it up.

"The few times we did have conversations, she always talked about you," Britta said with a smile.

Alaric's face perked up.

"Yes. She told me about your traits, how you are more worthy as a king than she was as a queen. She said you were different than most warriors. You'd heal the wounded on the enemy side as well as your own. You didn't kill unless your life was on the line. You used their strength against them, never using your own. She knows your true strength, and it doesn't lie in the killing. You bring people together and heal them. That is the true marker of the king. Your people are brought together by your love and not by their fear of you. Not like Njord." Britta assured Alaric.

She put the necklace over Alaric's head and pulled the pendant down across his chest.

"Where do I start? How can I? There is so much to do in such little time. Without Una here, I feel lost. I don't see a direction. I don't see a path." Alaric said, furrowing his brow and looking out the window.

"She told me something not long ago, something that has helped me and will help you. She said, "don't let your plans get in the way of your journey." I think you need to realize that you are here, alive and well. Don't fret for the future to come." Britta smiled.

"That does sound like something she would say." Alaric laughed to himself.

"You see, you are free. Don't let Njord, even Una, direct you where you need to go and what you need to do. That is not the purpose of a king. Your life is no longer bound by your past, only what is ahead. The journey is what matters, not how many things you can do in that amount of time. You don't have to be like the kings, you know. That is what Una saw in you. You're different, and that is exactly why you belong on that throne." Britta grabbed his hand.

"So, dry your tears and stop thinking so much. Destiny has brought you to us for a reason. It's time that knows your place here, as our king." Britta said, letting go of his hand and turning around, hearing a noise.

"Henrik!" Britta exclaimed as her toddler son was peering around the door.

Alaric smiled when he saw the child. There was something about him that made him realize his duty as a king. He couldn't allow his nephew to grow up just like Njord. He would have to be his example. The child came trotting in, almost falling over, running to Britta.

"How did you get out!?" Britta laughed as she picked him up.

Henrik looked at Alaric with his large gray eyes and looked away, hiding in his mother's hair. He then popped back out and looked at Alaric again and laughed.

"He likes you already." Britta laughed as she tried to hand Henrik to Alaric.

"Humph. Your son is going to be a traveler if he strays this far from your room without you." Alaric laughed, scooping him up in his arms.

Henrik instantly spotted the pendant on Alaric's chest and began to play with it. Britta couldn't help but smile at Alaric playing with her son. She imagined that if Frey were still alive, it would look just like this. Alaric and Britta both lost someone so dear to them because of this war. Britta lost Frey to the Mercians, and Alaric lost Una to the action. He knows not if she will ever return, even with her promise. Only time could heal the wounds that they had all have been inflicted with. The only time was the best medicine, something that even Alaric could never make fast enough.