Dunholm
Kingdom of Northumbria

The resonance of whispers from the two girls sat beside Lynette did little and less to calm her hectic nerves as she stared ahead of her with tired eyes and a pounding head. Intertwined fingers and hands clasped firmly together in a position which is so familiar yet felt that much more distant troubled Lynette. Her lips called for their revival as she gripped on tighter to the wooden crucifix in her hold- as her knuckles turned white, ghostly white, from the sheer strength in hopes that she would feel some semblance of normalcy.

An emptiness that drifted passed her scornfully as if to say she was being forgotten, a feeling that was well known yet ignored by her perhaps in a manner to submerge beneath layers of skin and bone to hide. A feeling that had become a fear, a concernment of being disregarded as her mother had done, as her father did to her. It was peculiar for Lynette a place where she had always thought herself to be important, to be cared and remembered had slowly began to ease its grasp the fingers loosening and beginning to return to a veiled side.

Unknowingly as she sat perched on the floor, her knees digging into the ground her own fingers had began to loosen their hold on the crucifix. Concealed behind a wall, a secret place of in the fortress, hidden from sinful eyes and torturous minds Lynette sat beside Claennis and Fria, each consumed by the words they spoke.

Had her words lost their meaning? In a way her mother's may have done, it would seem as if this is destined.

Lynette went to stand up but as she did Fria's hand wrapped around her wrist stopping her, "You can't go yet your prayer is but half done." She whispered.

Lynette frowned, annoyed.

"I think I know how much I need to pray." She snapped.

Claennis looked to the side "Fria let her go." She spoke gently.

The hand unravelled from her skin and Lynette stood silently, an empty shell of continuous thoughts yet she had no more to say, her head tilted down and she sighed "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

Fria shrugged her shoulders "I was just letting you know, I don't know the next time we will be here." She replied.

Fria was right, the mere fact that they are here praying in a manner that would unleash the vilest of horrors upon them if they were to be found meant they could not always allow themselves to find comfort between these four imperceptible walls. So tiny and hidden yet so vastly open to them. As the softly hallowed wind quickened Lynette sat back down her eyes downcast and her hands fisted beside her, she did not have any more words to say but she sought the solace of quiet and it was enough to keep her.

In-between the cracks of silence Lynette felt herself slip into the darkness of past memories, those which she had tried so hard to abandon yet they were ever unrelenting, they were a part of her, each and every single one and her conscious made sure she never forgot.

Cold water seeped through her flesh, unforgiving, Lynette submerged her hands into the basin a cloth wrapped in her palm as she soaked up the water before she turned and looked to Kjartan. He stood with his looming shadow behind him, dark and cruel just as he is, Lynette held her breath, lips stretched shut into a firm and thin line- she would not make the mistake of breathing too loud, not again.

His tenebrific eyes lacked any light they stared ahead as he spoke to a man. Lynette walked forward and stood by him, she did not wish to disturb him not when he was already seething in a pit of anger. Suddenly he snapped his gaze to her and glared she almost instantly understood and reached up with shaky hands Lynette placed the wet, water soaked cloth onto Kjartan's bare arm and rubbed washing away any speck of dirt there.

Her fingers crawled with shivers and her chest weighted with fear yet she persevered, Lynette cannot remember how many days it had been but what she did know is that it had been one too many, a month perhaps- no, it was more. Each day had blurred together in an unclear, fuzzy daze, days intertwined with the other like paths of a never-ending maze and she was ensnared here.

Prayer, that was the only constant Lynette clung to. She knew to never forget it, never abandon it and to attach herself to it with a sturdy unyielding grasp, now more so than ever, she has to. Her mother, another constant, guided her prayers Lynette would delve deep into the obscurities of her mind and draw out the whispers she could recall, her mother's solace.

"Is this task too difficult for you or are you much too tired, girl?" His voice was cutting, sharp and derisive Lynette snapped her gaze to his.

She remained quiet, her hand -the one which is not grasping the cloth- tightened into a fist and she could feel her nails sink into the soft flesh of her palm.

"Which one is it then?" He narrowed his eyes.

Lynette gulped, "Sorry." She breathed out.

He leaned down and closer to her, "Sorry?" He repeated, "Such poor work is not permitted here, you must do better." He spoke slowly, cadence demanding and strict.

Her heart thumped against her ever compressing chest, she just nodded her head. Her lips parted and a gasp of fear tumbled out when he, abruptly out of the shadows, reached his hand up and squeezed her face -roughly- the callous skin of his hand rubbed into her cheeks, "Words, you always answer with words, understand?" Kjartan enforced rather cruelly.

Lynette could feel tears well in her eyes, they formed thick droplets and she tried with any strength she could muster to force them back- she did not wish to know how he would react if she were to cry in front of him, not well she had deemed.

"Yes, Lord, I understand." She stuttered out, within the depths of her fright Lynette recalled the gentle eyes of her mother, she is but a girl twelve years of age frightened and alone she wished, yearned for home.

He pulled back and stood up, he peered down at her with a smile yet Lynette felt no comfort not even a tiny sliver of it, her skin crawled uneasily and her hands shook by her side- she opened her palm, the skin was red and crescent moon shaped carvings had embedded themselves thereupon it.

"Good, that is a well behaved girl- now continue." He ordered as he turned back to the man before him.

With a deep breath Lynette once again leaned forward and placed the cloth upon his arm as she rubbed, she made sure to pay keen attention this time, her eyes solely trained upon the wicked man's skin as she cleaned and cleaned away the surface dirt yet the true filth -that is bone deep, in his flesh and blood, that will never be cleansed.

Time moved on just as quick as the wind danced and with the last whisper Fria stood tall and took her leave rushing out mumbling about some kitchen duty, the silence that fell between Claennis and Lynette was soothing. Dust covered much of the corner, masked by the darkness they were too afraid to light a candle in the event it were to catch the wrong eyes. It was almost a routine that they would spend time here, a routine of chance rather than a set performance but all the while it was still calming.

"You seem different." Claennis whispered.

Lynette turned to her, confused "How so?" She lightly laughed.

Claennis rolled her eyes "I cannot say, just that you do." She answered.

"I'm as I have always been Claennis." Lynette stood up offering her hand to the other girl, as Lynette helped Claennis up off the ground she shook her head, "You seem distracted."

"I would be surprised if I wasn't the work here is tiring." Lynette jested as they most carefully made their way out of the sheltered corner, eyes wide and breaths halted.

"No, you seem happier which is perplexing." Claennis nudged Lynette.

"I'm not." Lynette scoffed, amused by her friend's mutterings. "And why would that be perplexing?" She inquired.

"Have you seen this hell?" Claennis exhaled "Never mind that, how is everything with Sihtric?" As they walked Claennis watched Lynette with keen eyes and as for Lynette she turned to the side to hide the very prominent rosy blush on her cheeks.

"I wouldn't know." She replied in a slight stutter.

"I thought you two spend quite some time in each other's company?" Claennis pressed further.

Lynette shook her head, "No we spend just as much time as anyone else would...." Her voice was hushed "...in another's company."

The breeze is fragranced with the sweet smell of budding petals wrapping around Lynette's dress as they are showered with sunlight, the pollen of flowers carrying the vibrations of buzzing and melodies of birds. Pale gold rays casting shadows before them as they walk on the ground.

"I can assure you I do not spend that much time in another's company...especially not a man..." Claennis laughed as she raised her brows turning to stare at Lynette, "...except of course if I were to call him my-"

Before Lynette could answer her with a shove, the door to the fortress is slammed open and a horse dragging a cart with it rushes inside. A man approached Lynette and Claennis with a deathly stern stare "Come with me." He grabbed her wrist and dragged her with him towards the hall.

Claennis followed behind, the atmosphere had suddenly dulled the sun itself eclipsing behind clouds.

The inside was filled with many men, chatting, eating and drinking the smell inside was nauseating and Lynette wanted to return back outside to the fresh breeze. Her hand had began to ache from the tight grip and she pulled harshly to release from his hold to which the man known as Fiske turned to glare dropping her hand with a jeer. Confused and somewhat irritated Lynette's eyes roamed the room, the ever loud chewing had began to frustrate her the sound grating her skin tauntingly as a nail does metal.

Her comfort came in the manner of a tall brunette, green-grey eyed man. Sihtric stood up from his seat with furrowed brows dressed in confusion but before he could reach her Fiske had dragged Lynette to a table seating her down before another.

Bloodied and scratched Sven sat stuffing his face with food the disgust on Lynette's features apparent to anyone, "Here." Fiske snapped "Fix him before his father arrives." He demanded.

If Lynette could she would have said no, her hands refused to move forward, her body did not want to tend to his wound, she would rather see him battered and bruised a thousand times more than he already is. But as the world would have it she grabbed the cloth and leaned forward waiting for Sven to stop his foul chewing, his head turned towards her and he smirked inching closer to her. Patting the wet cloth over his tiny busted cheek she fought against the proliferating whispers telling her to press harshly to even pull back and punch him in the hopes it would knock him out, as of now she lacked the strength for such an outcome. Sven's stare moved to behind Lynette, to exactly where Sihtric is stood and the one-eyed villain raised his brows tauntingly his smirk largening as he awaited for Sihtric to pounce forward and attack him, it was hoped that he would do that but Sihtric did not.

His irritation was felt to a boundless height, Sihtric watched the sight before him with his jaw clenched, hands fisted and stare filled with rage.

Blood had dried at the corners of his mouth and Lynette cringed as her hands slowly shifted towards the bump with abhorrence, just merely skimming over the cut she then rushed to place the cloth into the water but as she did so Sven grabbed her wrist, "Is this how you tend to your Lord's wounds?" He inquired, sharply.

Lynette had the mind to scoff at his words, Lord, he would not be deserving of such a title even in his useless dreams.

Her hand withdrew from his grasp with haste as she picked up the cloth and placed it back at his lip she dabbed with bitterness "Sihtric, I see you allow your woman too much freedom for disrespect." The one-eyed glared.

Sihtric, determined in his path, advanced towards the table where they were seated he grabbed Lynette and pulled her back behind him, the cloth in her hand dropping to the floor with a splat. Sven turned back to his food ignoring their presence, before Sihtric could saying anything that would land him in immense trouble the door crashed open and Kjartan, infuriated as ever marched towards his son. Lynette wrapped her hand around Sihtric's wrist and quickly dragged him to the side, out of the way.

He turned to her and with eyes as gentle as ever, "Are you okay?" He whispered, irises scanning her features with frenzied worry.

"I'm fine, really." She reassured glancing back at the nasty father and son.

"Why would a dead horseman ride with sickly lepers, were they dead too?" Kjartan inquired, by the tone of his voice Lynette could tell his patience was dangling on a very thin line arranging to snap at any given moment, Sven's answer depended on the vigour of it.

Turning to Sihtric with confusion she leaned into his side so her quietened voice could be heard clearly, "What does he speak off?" she asked.

"The slaves for ransom." He spoke and Lynette nodded her head, "There was a disturbance an apparent dead horseman seeking Kjartan's soul."

"Oh." She turned to look at the Lord of this disordered chaotic fortress and bit back an amused smile trapping behind it a sonorous laugh. Lynette did not believe the dead could arise again, once death has claimed a soul the body will rot in its cage in the ground being feasted on by all manner of pests yet somehow she had found herself hoping that there was some truth to this.

Sihtric leaned down to her ear his breath fanning "Don't look so happy." He whispered, Lynette turned to him and shook her head brushing back the strands of hair that had blown onto her cheek "I am not." She charmed, her eyes transforming into a look of innocence, a clear cover of deceit.

"I did not ask." Sven replied nonchalant, still biting onto his piece of bread.

Kjartan's voice was quietened but Lynette knew this only meant his anger was boiling, "He need ride with no man." Leaning into Sven's side, "He is dead....invisible." He spoke slowly.

"Father, it was as I say." Sven pressed. "I know what I witnessed." So sure in his answer, Sven placed another piece of bread into his mouth his carefree persona only adding into the brewing cauldron of enraged havoc that is his father.

Fiske stepped forward, "How are we to kill a dead man?" He asked, the whole situation before her was amusing.

"Do you think what Sven speaks is the truth?" Lynette asked Sihtric, hushed.

"I don't know." He replied.

"Cut him into pieces? Tiny-"

Kjartan cut Sven off with a loud angered shout of frustration, "It is a trick! He is a lie!"

"Shocking, Kjartan isn't entirely a dumb fool." Lynette whispered, Sihtric amused nudged her but as he did she almost tripped from the chair that sat lodged out of place beside her and he lunged forward quickly to steady her, his hands on her shoulders. Lynette looked to him with an annoyed stare to which he placed his finger on her chin turning her to look back ahead.

Repeating sounds of dogs barking riddled the air, over and over its sound clearly beginning to aggravate Kjartan as he grabbed Sven harshly throwing him aside, "Go shut her up, your bitch!" He yelled, his chest heaving up and down as he seethed at his son, taking a seat in the now vacant chair.

As Sven tried to regain his composure Lynette stepped further away and closer into Sihtric's side, "We should go from here." He said faintly.

"No we shouldn't yet, if we move and he realises we are here..." Her voice trailed off.

Sven breathed out, "It did not appear to be a trick, everything I have said is true." He urged.

He had become nervous it was plain, each inch of Kjartan's features spoke of his emerging fear his heart most likely palpitating and his forehead drenched in cold sweat. And Lynette only found humour from his current state, she hoped this would consume him until he is no longer the man he claims himself to be now. He would turn into a shell of what he prides himself in, terror would roam his blood and his veins will only speak of death as he tries to escape its shackles which are now and forever bound to his ankles.

"You, Fiske..." Kjartan demanded, "Do you believe this horseman is back from the dead?" He inquired.

"Amusing," Sihtric muttered to Lynette "I think he is a dumb fool."

Lynette bit back a laugh.

"Yes lord, it seemed that way." Fiske replied.

Kjartan's jaw clenched, "Then you believe he was sent by Odin to take my soul?" He inquired very slowly. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought he looked back to Fiske "Now, he arrived with the priests and a ransom?"

Fisked nodded his head, "Yes Lord."

"But no silver was paid." Kjartan stated.

"No, lord." Fiske confirmed.

"Still, they took their man." The fury in Kjartan's eyes was unmistakable.

Lynette awaited for the man to speak her eyes blinking in complete curiousity.

Kjartan stood up Lynette turned to look away so as not catch his stare, "We find the slave, we find the lepers and we find the priest." He glared at Fiske "Together they will tell us all we need to know about this horseman, dead or otherwise." Kjartan patted Fiske's shoulder before leaving the hall.

Lynette glanced at Sihtric momentarily.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The day was still early and the sun had yet to complete its full ascent into the sky, between clouds that held a promise of rain lay an azure born of the bluest of petals and golden rays from the sunshine painted wings of birds enchantingly as they soared happily through the free open air. Lynette's eyes fixated on one of the birds, a beautiful sparrow, it sang a song so melodious and she imagined herself following the bird on its path, delivering her own freedom as she tore through a field of overgrown grass and trees towering almost as tall as the sky itself would shield her from fury.

Falling into step with Lynette Sihtric admired her as she was completely consumed by her doings, it perplexed him but all the same it was fondness he felt. "You may trip." He said.

Lynette looked to the side, "I will not." She replied her pace quickening.

"Walking while staring at the sky isn't the safest way of walking." Sihtric jested.

"It can be." Lynette answered sharply which Sihtric found amusing.

Her feet were quick, too quick, it seemed as she wanted to get away from the outside and find shelter inside pushing the door open to the kitchen Lynette placed her bag on the shelf aside the jars of food. Sihtric had followed her inside seating himself down, "I had the bow and arrow fixed in secret." He stated.

"Really?" Lynette excitedly questioned, she turned to look at him leaning over the table that separates them with her elbows resting on the surface and her face in the palms of her hands that rest on her cheeks.

"Mhm." Sihtric replied nodding his head, "Do I get anything in return?" He asked.

Lynette stood back up and looked to him with a sigh, "What?" She rolled her eyes, "You're seriously asking for something in return, can you not just help out from the kindness of your heart?"

He thought for a moment purposefully taking his time to which Lynette not so patiently waited, "I could but I think getting something in return would be better and from the kindness of your heart, no?" He jested.

She shook head, "I can teach you how to stitch a dress although I don't know what you would need such a skill for." She laughed

"I may do."

"I will wait for such an occasion to arise and as you wish to observe my skill, I'll do the same with you." 

"Don't be so offended when I turn out to be better skilled than you in the art of making dresses." He jested as he leaned back comfortably in his seat.

Lynette scoffed as she approached him, "That is amusing." She shoved him when he gave her no response but a cheeky smile, the corners of his pink blushed lips curved and she felt her heart slightly sink a flutter followed after, it roamed the space of her stomach and with each flutter- more followed thereafter only intensifying the frenzied sensation.

"You are bold." She tilted her head, "Trusting me with a bow and arrow, who knows I may shoot you with it."

"Very well and then after you will have no choice but to tend to my poor and injured wound." He arrogantly retorted.

"I'd rather let you rot." She exhaled, a smile began to force its way onto her lips but she shoved it away, "And anyway, I know I'll be much better with them than you, I'm practically an expert."

"That you will be, but all because of my exceptional teaching skills." He raised his brows then leaned forward as an arrogant yet mischievous smirk played upon his lips

"Or I am just a natural talent."

"So you would have me lie then?" He slightly laughed, "You, yourself, told me lying is a sin."

"Sihtric...." She sighed as she roughly pushed him once more, a curl from behind her ear fell forward the same piece of hair that always found its wave to the front it framed her cheek beautifully and in turn it wholly captured Sihtric's attention his grey eyes wonder-dazed for a moment.

"You can be so frustrating, do you know that?" Lynette huffed out, he gave no response lost in a whirl of teeming thoughts bound to the tip of his conscience as Lynette leaned over to shove him once more he blinked and reached up to grab her wrist, pulling her closer to him- so close that her breath was hitting the exposed skin of his neck

"I had taught you to use violence against enemies....." He whispered "Not me." His eyes wandered her face from her eyes, to her lips and then her cheeks as if he was sculpting the structure into his mind, fixing it there with no hope of ever escaping for he never wants to forget the face of the angelic girl before him.

The peaceful air around them had suddenly become thick with shyness as Lynette could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, "You shouldn't have been so brash." She replied in hopes that it would sound snarky but come out as a soft murmur.

Sihtric let go of her wrist leaning back, "Well..." He laughed, "My apologises, then." He said.

"You're scared of me that is why you are apologising..." Lynette stood up her back to Sihtric as she tried to regain control of her emotions, patting at her cheeks, she walked to the shelves "Admit it Sihtric." She jested.

Sihtric stood up standing on the other side of the table, "I will not..." He raised his brows jestingly, "Let me see how well you do with a bow and arrow."

"Fine." She retorted.

"Good." He tilted his head.

"Go away now." She sighed.

"No." He replied just as quick.

"Get out, Sihtric." She exhaled in mock irritation, walking out from behind the table she pushed him towards the exit of the kitchen until he reached the door she shoved him outside but he turned around again leaning against the doorway.

"I like it when you say my name." He expressed.

Lynette rolled her eyes, "I don't care." She slammed the door, "Go irritate someone else." She shouted through the door.

The ever large smile never leaving her lips as she made her way back to the table grabbing the jar to open, her mind was thoroughly invested in the affairs of the man who was just in the room. He had managed to somehow consume all her thoughts of late- it has become destructive. Somewhere in the back of her mind a crafty voice calls reminding Lynette of why she had first kept herself so sheltered, the barrier of her enclosure slowly being taken down brick by brick, an ever gnawing fear in each crevice of her mind gradually regaining its hold- a fear that she had built up for the safety of her own heart.

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A/N: Uhtred mentioned!! Hey here is another chapter I hope you enjoyed reading it, I added in a cute little scene of Lyn and Sihtric because I just adore them so much!!

Don't forget to comment and vote, thank you for reading 🫶