Trigger Warning: this chapter contains violence/abuse.

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Chapter Nine: Worth a Pretty Penny
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Finan was on his way out of the hall when Sihtric stopped him from going any further. The Dane's hand rested on Finan's shoulder and a knowing smile soon found its way on his lips.

"I'm asking you to not hurt her."

"I would never." Finan shook his head. He couldn't help but feel slightly agitated, and offended, that Sihtric or anyone else for that matter would assume he would hurt Eawynn.

"I am just warning you, brother. That is all. Now go, she is probably waiting for you." Sihtric grinned, "And you should never keep a woman waiting. Especially for your cock."

Finan playfully shoved Sihtric before he dashed through the hall, out through the courtyard, and into the streets. The city of Winchester was alive. Finan thrived on this type of environment. He had gone so many years without speaking to another living soul - until he met Halig and Uhtred, that is - and he never wanted to go through that again.

There was a certain pep in his step as he rushed through the crowds. Passing the ale house, he ignored the watchful eye of Aethelwold, not noticing the knowing smirk appearing on the man's face as he drank the rest of his ale.

The weasel was no longer sober. But that did not affect Finan in any way, so he continued on his way to the inn. He had this weird fluttering in his chest - something he didn't remember ever really experiencing before. He was nervous. And he really didn't know why. He had nothing to be nervous for. He knew how to please a woman, he would give himself credit for that.

Once he was through the doors and up the stairs, he tried to remember which door belonged to Eawynn. He had helped Uhtred settle everyone's belongings when they first arrived at Winchester but that had already been well over twenty four hours and he had much to drink at the wedding feast.

Once he found her room, he knocked twice. He stood there, giddy but still slightly nervous for what was to come the moment she opened that door. But, unfortunately for Finan, that moment never came. He called her name, loud enough to echo through the wood, loud enough to cover the noise coming from the ale house next door.

"Wynn?" He called again, this time lifting his hand to pound against the door. Something wasn't right. He knew, for a fact, that she was a light sleeper. And even if she had fallen asleep while waiting for him, the noise from down below would have woken her from her slumber.

"Christ, I'm comin' in!" He yelled, twisting the knob and roughly opening the door.

Empty.

The room was empty.

Finan stood in the doorway for a minute, maybe two at the most. He did a quick search of the room and realized that Eawynn had never made it back to her room. The bed was poorly made, but he could tell that it was still untouched. Panic set in as Finan found himself rushing back through the doorway, down the stairs and out into the street.

"You!" He screamed, his finger pointing towards Aethelwold who was trying to talk to Uhtred outside of the ale house.

"Finan!" Uhtred stepped between the two men, ignoring the quivering frame of Aethelwold who cowered behind him. "What is it?" He asked calmly.

The Dane-Slayer knew how to keep himself collected. That was something Finan found himself jealous of. He would have no problem admitting it. He, on the other hand, was a hotheaded Irishman. The blood coursing through his veins was boiling, bubbling through his body like magma coursing through the earth's core. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were blown out.

"Where is she?" He ignored Uhtred and tried to reach around him to grab at Aethelwold. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that the weasel knew something. "Where is she?" He roared again, finally breaking through Uhtred's barrier, grabbing hold of Aethelwold's tunic, snatching him up as Sihtric tried to pull him back.

"I don't k-know what you are talking about." Aethelwold stammered, sweat already beginning to bead at his hairline and trickle down his temple. "Let go of me!"

"Finan!" Uhtred raised his voice, still remaining as stoic as ever as he reached back to pry the Irishman's fingers from Aethelwold's tunic. Finan was grabbing the material so tight and yanking upward that it was beginning to choke the man who was an aspirant to the throne.

Uhtred finally got through to him because he let go of Aethelwold's tunic and stumbled back into Sihtric.

"Eawynn is gone, lord. Without a trace. And he knows something. I know he does!" The Irishman snapped. He was becoming feral at the idea of Eawynn lying hurt somewhere, or worse - dead.

Uhtred turned to Aethelwold now. "Speak." He commanded, his hand grabbing the man's tunic, holding him close and tight.

"I swear to you I don't kn-"

"He's lying!" Finan snapped angrily. "He knows her father was here. He wanted her back. What did he give you, huh? Some silver to line your pockets?"

Aethelwold was quivering again. This time it was under the grip and stare of Uhtred.

"I don't know where he took her." He finally spoke, admitting his knowledge of Lady Eawynn's disappearance.

Finan growled. He was almost completely feral now. His eyes black as the night sky as he reached forward to grab the weasel of a man again, rage taking over. "You're dead, ya little rat. Do ya hear me?"

"Loud and c-clear." Aethelwold's voice came out squeaky. Sharp and high pitched tones escaping his flat lips as he flinched under the fist of the angered Irishman.

Sihtric had let go of Finan's arm - the last thread of security holding him back from pummeling Aethelwold now snapped in two.

Aethelwold began opening his mouth to speak and only got as far as, "I believe she is to be sold into marriage," before Finan turned back around and slammed his tightly closed fist into Aethelwold's jaw.

Finan grunted loudly at the connection of fist and jaw. He grinned down at the man who was now sprawled out on his back, cradling his face in both hands.

All Finan could see was red. He was a fool. A stupid, selfish fool.

"I should have just gone right back to the inn with her. I should have stayed with her and made sure she was safe." He started pacing back and forth, wearing the dirt road beneath his feet down. The sick feeling in his gut was intensifying at the thought that he would never see her again.

He was a man of his word. He had sworn an oath to Uhtred. He promised, with every fiber of his being, that he would follow him to the ends of the earth and back again. But now, now all he could think about was Eawynn. He needed to find her. He just needed her.

"Finan." Uhtred called.

The Irishman gave no response. His eyes still narrowed down at Aethelwold who was slowly regaining his composure. His hands were tightly clenched into fists, trying to stop the tremble, at his sides. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the beating of his heart against his ribs. He was a failure. He failed to protect her. He failed to keep his promise to her.

He could still taste her on his tongue. He could still feel her skin under his fingertips, the way her skin prickled up with goose pimples at his touch sent shockwaves through him. He never knew that the feeling of another could be that good. That pure.

Was that how it was supposed to feel? He had been with plenty of women but none of them had ever made him feel this alive. And he was able to base this all off a simple touch, a passionate kiss at most.

The more he thought about it, about her, the more he realized that just being near her made him feel this way. She was it for him. He refused to believe otherwise. The memory of her words to him on constant replay in the forefront of his mind.

"You do not need to be a lord for me to love you."

"Aethelwold." Uhtred sighed heavily, reaching down and grabbing onto his tunic once more. He lifted the man with ease and kept him upright, the tips of his toes digging into the ground as he was lifted higher than eye level with the Dane-slayer.

"You will tell us everything you know. Now."

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Everything was black for a while. Eawynn was not sure how much time had passed since she had been knocked unconscious, but by the time her eyes fluttered open, the sun was setting far off in the distance. It was close to a full days time since she spent those few scandalous moments with Finan in the courtyard.

Her head was pounding. It was almost like someone was sitting behind her with a hammer and chisel, sculpting the back of her skull into some magnificent work of art.

Her eyes shut once more as she tried to shift her body. She wanted to feel her surroundings without having to look, terrified of who would be standing there watching her. She took in a deep breath as she could not shake the sense of not being alone.

"Open your eyes."

That voice. It had been years. Disgust dripping with pride. Sure arrogance as always.

"Hello Father."

Eawynn opened her eyes and immediately caught the gaze of the man who created her, Lord Alfric of Mercia. He looked rough, a little worse for wear and she found herself scoffing at the look of desperation on his face. She had gotten out all the years before, no longer a pawn in his game but now...now she was back to square one.

"Where are we?" She asked, her voice slightly hoarse after being out cold for what she believed to be around twenty hours. She wished she could say she was well rested. She wasn't. Far from him. Panic stricken, her hands shook as she used them to elevate her upper body from the bed she had been placed in.

"Our location is none of your concern." He shrugged his wide shoulders and leaned back in the chair. "You have grown into a true beauty, my dear daughter. You look more like your mother with each passing year."

Eawynn stared at him in disgust. "Have you been watching me?"

"Not me, personally. But... I have my ways." He smirked.

This was worse than she thought. He had known her whereabouts the entire time. He was more cold and calculated than she originally thought. Her hands trembled in her lap before she moved to touch the back of her head. There was a gash covered in a sticky, slightly dry, substance which she noted was her blood when she brought her hands back in front, the drying liquid left on her fingertips.

"Tell me, Eawynn, do you think your Irishman will come find you?" Alfric stood up from the table now, towering over his daughter who was cowering on top of the straw mattress. "Or what about the Dane slayer and the rest of his group of Danes?" He let out a loud laugh, "A hypocrite, that man is." He hummed as he reached down and grabbed the back of her head. His thick fingers tangled in her already knotty hair as he yanked her up.

"Let go of me!" She cried, trying to get his hands out from her hair as she struggled against him. It was no use. He was much too large and much too strong for her to get away.

Alfric let go of her once he was able to shove her to the ground. His body towering over her and blocking any of the remaining daylight coming in from the window.

"You'll prove to be a pretty penny, my love. With your virtue still intact, that is. Tell me," he grabbed her hair again and pulled her up just enough to sneer down close to her face. "Did you let that filthy Irishman get a taste of you? What about the scrawny Dane? Or perhaps, Lord Uhtred himself?"

"No!" She cried, warm tears streaming down her cheeks down. She was not only overwhelmed by what he was insinuating, but also by the feeling of her hair being yanked out of her scalp by the root. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look at her father's face that was twisted in rage.

He let go of her once more, smirking as he watched her fall to the floor with a loud thud. "We're on our way to a new friend of mine. He is very excited to meet you."

Eawynn curled up on her side, imagining that she was anywhere but here. Instead of the hard, dirty wood floor she was curled up in her bed back in Coccham. Finan was sprawled out beside her as their bodies were hidden beneath the furs. His fingers brushed through her hair, playing with the strands as a calming sensation washed over her.

She got away from him once before. She could do it again.

She had faith.