─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───
Chapter Twenty-Three: Reclaiming Glory
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───

"Aethelstan!" Eawynn groaned, wiping the muck from her cheek as she chased after the young boy.

It was nearing the end of the warmer months now, but for the last seven days it had rained. The dirt had turned to mud, and Aethelstan thought it would be a good idea to scoop what he could and throw it at the girls before laughing up a storm and running off.

Stiorra stood her ground, her arms tightly wound over her chest as she let out a huff of anger. "Aethelstan! You get back here before I cut your fingers off with a rusty seaxe!"

"Stiorra!" Eawynn shouted at the young girl, "Mind your tongue. That is no way for a lady to speak."

Stiorra rolled her eyes, "I am no lady, Wynnie." She shot back, wiping the muck from her own face and dress.

Eawynn couldn't help but let out a laugh. If she were to be honest, this first day of sunshine was exactly what they all needed after being cooped up inside for so long. "Hm," she hummed to herself, deep in thought, "well, neither am I, really. But still, I do not wish for you to scare this poor boy."

Stiorra playfully stuck her tongue out before walking away, most likely to finish cleaning herself off. Her boots squashed the mud beneath her feet loudly, causing Eawynn to cringe at the sound.

Putting aside her grief over the loss of the life she thought she'd have with Finan, Eawynn was fairly happy. With each passing season came a new lesson, a new thing she found that she could be thankful for. Teaching Stiorra being one of them. She was a spitfire, just like both of her parents.

She was growing into her body, looking more like her mother with each passing day. Eawynn told her everything she could about Gisela, knowing that it meant so much to the young girl to learn about her heritage. Eawynn would not be exaggerating when she said that she told Stiorra the story of how her parents fell in love every single night when she was younger. Now that she was older, the stories being told were changing. Now Eawynn spoke of Uhtred, of his strength and his bravery and how he was a feared warrior as far as Wales.

The news of Alfred's death traveled quickly. While Eawynn was an empathetic person, she did not hold any love in her heart for the King of Wessex. She knew her friend Aethelflaed was mourning and wrote a hasty letter to send her the condolences she knew would be welcomed. Eawynn knew she also had to remember that Aethelstan, though in the dark of his destiny, also lost his grandfather.

And later that evening, surrounded by the warmth of the fire, Eawynn spun a story to the young boy about his grandfather and the battles he had won for the sake of a united England. The stories were vague, she refused to go into heavy detail with gore and violence - much to Stiorra's dismay, of course - but she managed to keep Aethelstan's attention well into the late night hours.

"He was a great King, then?" Aethelstan held Eawynn's gaze as her final story came to an end.

"Yes, in fact, some people are saying he may be the greatest King to have ever lived." Eawynn responded with a nod, ignoring the scoff that escaped Stiorra's lips.

Aethelstan was still so young and impressionable. The last thing Eawynn wanted to do was turn him against his real family - even if they had turned away from him in the beginning. Lady Aelswith had had a change of heart, so to speak, which was why Aethelstan was here with Eawynn and Stiorra on Aethelflaed's estate rather than the monastery.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───

Eawynn was beginning to lose hope. Things were changing drastically and she was so far removed from it all. Her eyes were full of tears as she read the letter from Aethelflaed. Thyra was dead. She died in her home, succumbed to the flame that had been set by an evil man who wanted to do her harm.

Tightening her fists, Eawynn let out a sob and pushed the letter away. She was sick of not being there for her friends, her family. Wiping the tears from her cheeks away, she stood up and held the letter over the open flame in the fireplace. Watching the parchment blacken and dissolve from the fire, Eawynn let the sobs escape and the tears flow free.

There was something therapeutic about letting yourself cry, and Eawynn knew she shouldn't keep all of these intense feelings bottled up. She had done so for so long after leaving Finan, but once she started letting herself feel she had a better understanding of why things happened the way that they did.

She could no longer fight her fate. If she was destined to spend her days in hiding on Aethelflaed's estate with Uhtred's daughter, then so be it. She knew it would not be forever, because that would simply be impossible. She knew no matter what happened, Uhtred would want to see his daughter before he left the earthly plane.

She also knew that if she wanted to, she could leave at any time. But with one look to Stiorra, knowing that she needed to be protected and kept hidden, Eawynn had to push all of her own worries and wants aside. They did not matter, but eventually they would. She just had to be patient.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───

St Wilfred's Church. Uhtred sneered at the sight. His hands folded over the stone landing as he peered down at the monks working in the garden. He was getting his son back. One way or another - his family would be restored.

"Which one?" Finan narrowed his eyes as he took in all of the monks before him. His mind was racing, just as fast as his heart was. They were here to gather up Uhtred, to take him back and bring him home. That only meant one thing, which made Finan glee with relief.

Eawynn. She was so close, the Irishman could feel her soft flesh just beneath his fingertips.

With the signal from their lord, Sihtric and Finan stepped out from their hiding spots and placed a sack over young Uhtred's head. The two men dragged him out from the garden, slinging his flailing body over a horse before they galloped away from the church to meet up with Uhtred deeper into the surrounding forest.

"Where are we going? Who are you?" Young Uhtred cried, now back on his feet. With the potato sack covering his head, the poor boy was completely disoriented. He was panting and grunting as he fought the hold of both Sihtric and Finan.

Once the sack was pulled off, young Uhtred stared at the men before him in disbelief. "Hello, Father."

"Men," Uhtred beamed, "this is my son. Young Uhtred."

"I don't use that name." The boy snapped, "It belongs to a priest killer." Every word he spoke was dripping with venom - more anger than any young man of God should ever know.

Uhtred ignored the comment. It was obvious that his son wanted to get a rise out of him, though the words did hurt. The hatred young Uhtred had pained his father, "I am here to guide you back to your family."

"The church is my family."

Finan and Sihtric remained silent as they stared at one another in the background. Finan was trying his hardest to not step in and ask young Uhtred when he last saw Eawynn. The suspense was killing him.

"You were placed there without my permission." Uhtred fought back.

"Praise be to King Alfred for that, Father." Young Uhtred shot back, a small smirk curling his lips upward as he watched his father wage a war of his own hatred behind his cool demeanor.

Uhtred stepped forward, sucking in a deep breath. "We are leaving this place and you are coming with me."

Finan tossed a bag of clothing, something more suitable for the travel, at the young boy.

"I have a gift for you." Uhtred called for Sihtric, his smile falling from his lips at the sight of the tiny horse the Dane walked over with. Sihtric couldn't help but let out a snort, knowing this was not the type of steed Uhtred would want for his son.

"Impressive beast." Young Uhtred sneered.

Finan giggled childishly as he leaned against the tree behind him. The Irishman just couldn't help himself.

"I did not realize how much you have grown." Uhtred admitted sheepishly, his hands resting on the hilt of his sword as he turned back to his son. "Ride with us to Coccham, and we will find you a proper horse."

Young Uhtred scoffed. It was obvious he would not be a willing traveler with his father and his men.

"We will then take a ship north. To seize back what was lost and unite our family." Uhtred nodded.

The two went back and forth and Finan could only giggle again. "Doesn't seem to like you much." He called after Uhtred, as he walked off from the group.

"That's Alfred's legacy!" Uhtred called back to Finan from over his shoulder.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───

While the men discussed Beocca's journey to Coccham to join Uhtred for the taking of Bebbanburg, Finan found himself wandering to the young deacon.

"Young Uhtred, do ya mind if I ask ya a question?" Finan sipped at his ale as he watched the boy through the flames.

"Go on." Young Uhtred nodded.

"Lady Eawynn, when..." The Irishman paused and let out a deep sigh, "When was the last time you saw her?"

Young Uhtred smiled. While he held contempt for his father, Lady Eawynn was a different story. She was kind and gentle, and she was also a Christian. "It has been some time. But I still remember her gentle eyes and soft hugs. She was always kind to me."

Finan's eyes softened at what young Uhtred said of Eawynn. He couldn't help but smile and look down at his empty mug of ale now. "She is a kind woman. And-"

"You miss her." Young Uhtred finished Finan's thought for him.

"Aye. A lot." Finan smiled at the last memory he had of her, albeit a dirty one. He cleared his throat and looked back up at young Uhtred once more.

"Yet you still follow my father blindly. He is the reason she is not by your side."

Finan's eyes darkened, "No. There is no one to blame in this story. Wynnie made a decision to leave for you and your sister, to do what she could to protect you and make sure you remembered where you came from." He glanced down again, "It obviously did not work for you, seeing as we found you at a church."

"You are a Christian man, are you not Finan?"

"Aye. I am. But I am loyal to your father, no matter what his beliefs are." Finan stood up, suddenly no longer wanting to continue this discussion with the boy.

"Where is he going?" Uhtred looked up as he watched Finan storm off.

"Most likely turning in for the night. Finan is anxious for battle." Sihtric nodded.

"Battle is not the only thing he is anxious about." Young Uhtred cut into their conversation. "He is anxious about being reunited with Wynnie. Another thing, a good thing, that you have destroyed, Father."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───

"Father is taking back Bebbanburg?" Stiorra stood behind Eawynn with her hands placed gently on her shoulders. The younger girl peered over her shoulder and read the letter written by Lady Aethelflaed.

"Yes, he is." Eawynn smiled, as her fingertips brushed against the ink. Aethelflaed also wrote of Finan, and while the information was limited, Eawynn found peace in knowing that he looked healthy and was still providing council to Uhtred.

She folded the letter and leaned back into Stiorra, "What shall we do today, Stiorra?" She turned slowly, looking up at the young girl with a small smile.

"I want to work on my sword skill some more." Stiorra decided with a grin.

"You are already better than me." Eawynn playfully complained, pressing her hands into the table as she stood up. "But, I guess it's because you are your fathers daughter." Eawynn smirked, following Stiorra out through the doors to the makeshift training yard she had created for them on the side of the building.

Eawynn certainly did not pride herself on her sword skill. She did not have enough time with Finan, nor Sihtric, to get better. But - she was still confident. As confident as she could be, of course. Sweat trickled down her forehead as she pushed forward, knocking the wooden sword into Stiorra's as the girl tumbled back and landed on the ground.

"You are growing stronger by the day, Stiorra. Just wait until your father sees you." Eawynn beamed, "He will be proud of the warrior you are becoming."

"But am I really becoming a warrior? Or am I just simply passing the time with learning how to fight because there is nothing better to do?" Stiorra frowned.

"Don't speak ill of yourself. You are a fine warrior. A shield maiden, if you will. One day, you will fight alongside your father and his men, I'm sure of it."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆. ───

We're getting closer to Finan & Eawynn's reunion ❤️ my little babies.

And yes, I mixed some of the timeline around to have Aethelstan out of the monastery sooner than it happens in the show.

Anywayyyy...

Thanks for sticking around. Hope everyone is doing well
xx