Dunholm
Kingdom of Northumbria

Lynette had fallen into a routine, she did all she could to veil her mind and prevent herself from falling deeper into the disastrous thoughts she would unwillingly perish at the altar of- yielding beneath its harsh hum. Sadness had become her as if it's grasp was a curse befallen unto her, wholly the sentiment is all she now knew. Many a days had passed slow and agonising all the same, all so draining and yet she prevailed albeit with much force for even she had contemplated whether it was worth it?

Waiting had become tedious akin to an affliction upon her and now she no longer desired to hear the word, fenced inside a burrow she had created herself dug with her own hands- the dirt making home beneath her nails, it was phantom to the eyes of others but to her it was all she could see. Dirt, stain, crud, impurity- filth a cycle that took it upon itself to continue.

With every breath Lynette drew passed her lips his name lay at the edge of each one, is he okay? what happened to him? Whispers carried through the cool winds, raw in nature for the words spoke of deceit he had become a traitor left his father and that he, Sihtric, wishes him dead. But who would not want such a cruel man dead? Lynette knew for sure that most people trapped behind the walls of this cage prayed upon it each night for she did the same, recited words of sin, she knew it but can God really condemn her? It was him, after-all, that had given her this life.

In the time that had come forth and passed Kjartan had placed a ban on ale and wine the fear had clawed through his heinous skin, passed cruel bones and wicked veins into his tainted blood and it had absorbed him entirely but still he ever more remained to all eyes strong and fierce, 'The fortress will hold and we will prevail, we are warriors.'

She would rather see this fortress be submerged in scorching flames, blazing each part of this land taking it and turning it into ash.

The winds had illustrated a rather harsh morning as Lynette saw, one by one, shivers arise on the pale skin of her arms. Clouds of white air travelled out from her lips with each exhale from her warm lungs yet she felt thoroughly enveloped by the bitterness that roamed. Her hands reached forth and she grabbed a warm wooden bowl of food before silently nodding her head to Bysen turning to leave without a word.

"Lynette- here wear this it is cold." She ordered as she draped a thin covering across her shoulders, it would not do much to curtain her from the cold but it was something.

Lynette mustered up a small smile forcing her fatigued muscles to curve in the shape, "Thank you." She whispered.

"It is the least that I could have done, now hurry." Bysen ushered the girl out of the kitchen.

The outside beckoned her onward with welcoming hands as she walked rather quickly, staying to the side she would appear to others as a quick shadow passing through barely noticeable. The night's faint call echoed behind the birds soft songs- Lynette awaited for the darkness each light with earnest longing.

"And where are you of to?" Lynette heard his voice, a screeching sound grating against her ears and she despised it.

Lynette turned to him she stood before a door- the door to a basement so cruel yet she wished she had walked quicker.

"To feed your prisoner." Lynette answered.

Sven scoffed walking closer, "How noble of you."

"If you would allow me to, lord, I must go." She said the word with such venom, it amused Sven but in a way where he desired to tear at her it was only fair to him.

"I see you harbour some resentment towards me, never-mind I really could not care." Sven exhaled, "I have not seen you mourning." He furrowed his brows excessively.

Lynette blinked irritated she gripped onto the bowl with a tighter grasp, "Mourning?" She forced out.

"Well I just thought he meant quite a lot to you but my mistake I should not have assumed." Sven venomously chuckled.

"Who?" She snapped, although like a flicker of realisation she knew who he meant but still for some strange reason she wanted to hear it.

"My bastard brother of course." Sven breathed out as if saying his name was not even worth the time.

Lynette further tightened her grasp on the bowl repeating to herself over and over again to not throw it at his head, the soup inside was still exuding heat and she felt the warmth radiate slightly through the wood.

"He is not dead therefore there is no need for such an act." Lynette replied with a glare so vicious it could have almost burned through his other eye.

Sven shook his head mockingly.

"I have heard you tell people here what you think but I do not believe it, you are spreading lies." Lynette seethed.

"Oh fuck, is your God going to condemn me?" Sven laughed.

Lynette turned around tired of the conversation she reached forward to twist the knob on the old worn out door but Sven called out tauntingly, "It is the whole truth Lynn..." He ridiculed the nickname, Lynette took an empty angered gulp "...believe it or not, you-"

He was cut off by the harsh voice of Lynette, "Are you not bored of this?" She turned leering at him with animosity, "..I had expected for a man of your standing to find his amusement elsewhere. I'm sure there is a cup of ale waiting for you, go waste your time." She seethed out.

She had become immensely agitated by this, all she desired was to be left alone she no longer had the patience she had withheld for the many years before- it had began to crack and it seemed as if the overly irritating voice of Sven speaking of cruel deception had ruptured it with such force that she could no longer just stand and listen to him taunt her with merciless lies about him, Sihtric.

"No." He, Sven, smiled largely "...the idea that my bastard brother is rotting dead somewhere is the true amusement."

With a clenched jaw and a frustrated stare Lynette did ponder in the thought for the briefest of moments before abhorring herself for even relenting to Sven's wicked words, he was only taunting her.

"Don't look at me like that, I am being generous with sharing my thoughts." Sven happily revealed as if he had done some great deed awaiting for Lynette to thank him ever so graciously, the fool.

"I did not ask to share in your thoughts." Lynette snarled.

"See..." He sighed, "...that is the generous part, I did so unasked." He chuckled it sounded so villainous to Lynette, "You have got to know really he would never do well out there Uhtred is fierce he would have killed him."

Lynette quietened down her eyes glazing over with a look of confusion as she sifted through her hazy thoughts the name sounding so familiar yet with all that had occurred of late it drifted so distant out of her reach as if she, herself, was pushing it away as though in actuality unknown to her she did not want to become acquainted with such a name.

"Uhtred?" Lynette whispered with perplexation.

Sven narrowed his eyes then let out a loud laugh "You do not know?" He questioned humoured by her bafflement on the name. "He is the rightful heir to Bebbanburg or so he claims himself to be."

The beheaded head of Scallion, the man atop a horse with a mischievously angered glare targeted at her father, the day she would never forget had resurfaced from underneath all the other years of terror.

"I am Uhtred of Bebbanburg and I shall take back what is mine!" His shout sounded ever as clear in her mind as it did that dreadful day.

"Your father sought out his death- your cousin's head." Sven ridiculed as if this whole situation, her confusion then her sudden shock upon the uncovering of who that man is, was all entertainment to him.

Uhtred of Bebbanburg had frightened her enormously when she was ten and two years of age and it is no lie when she thinks upon the memory, as vivid as the sky when it appears each morning, that she still felt no different- there is yet that similar feeling of terror. And now she had been thrown upon a mass of knowledge that Sihtric was sent to bring him- Uhtred, the same man that had beheaded someone so easily, back here and that the men had failed for their heads once lined the path to this fearsome fortress. What of Sihtric? Was this Uhtred prone to quick anger or was he merciful? Lynette had hoped endlessly that it be the latter, for what is life when Sihtric is not beside her? Lynette would never allow herself to continue on- the days would be enshrouded in perpetual darkness, her soul seeks his for serenity and he cannot be gone she will not allow him to be gone, she will never allow it.

"And we shall give it to him, nicely wrapped." Sven seethed his disdain of Uhtred becoming obvious, "Here lord turd, the head of your fucking nephew." He jested though the glimmer in his eyes told of the truth- of what he fervently desires, Uhtred's head be cut from his body maybe he may play around with it- he seemed the type to do such horror.

"The food is cold, allow me to leave." Lynette said.

"What, nothing to say?" Sven teased, "You would not shed a tear for your cousin? he is marked for death."

"I do not know him." Lynette replied.

"I am not so unkind, you will get a chance to know him when I bring you his bloodied and severed head." Sven raised his brows, an ever large smile of excitement on his sluggish lips, his eyes for a mere moment appeared to be overcast as if he was pre-imagining such a vicious and evil act. To throw the head of Uhtred before Lynette even though she does not know him- terrorising the girl was enough for Sven, he was sure to do it regardless of the fact.

How far does blood matter? because in this instant Lynette felt nothing, she cannot see herself crying at the beheading of this Uhtred for she had never known of his existence until that day and had never known of their relationship, blood tie, until now. Her true heartache lay with Sihtric the person who had held her in his embrace through the years, protected and cared for her and she did the same for him- many tears would gush from her eyes like a roar of water cascading in a waterfall, so loud and ever consuming. Lynette had allowed him to carve her open to absorb himself into each crevice of her body and mind, Sihtric had become her and she him- she would not listen to Sven's devious lies, she will not.

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The cold in the darkness below, passed the door and down the dilapidated staircase, was one immeasurably more piercingly bitter than the air that roamed above. When Lynette had not given Sven an answer he grew frustrated and turned away having taken his fill of amusement leaving Lynette to turn and continue on her path. His words, though, they had lasted in her mind etched there as they kept repeating over and over, first about Sihtric but she would push those away and just as quick as she did so they would return then in a plea to rid those terrible thoughts she would ponder on Uhtred.

Lynette had found herself wanting to know about him, the true heir to Bebbanburg anyone would be a better Lord of a land than her father.

"You are awfully quiet and I do not like it." Thyra snapped Lynette from her thoughts.

"I am sorry Thyra, the food it is not too cold is it?" Lynette questioned with evident worry, she damned Sven.

"I am just pleased to eat and of course to see you." She answered with gentle eyes and an even gentler tone.

"I am sorry I have not come down here more often, they hate it when I do." Lynette informed her, a foul expression lay on her features when she thought back to their words and ways of utter terror- repugnant as ever.

Thyra smiled, "You must stop apologising I am just glad you are here now."

Lynette reached through the bar her hand towards Thyra and in turn the girl grabbed it intertwining the fingers together to which Lynette squeezed, considerately but with a firm hold that told Thyra she cares. Stepping back she bit her lip allowing herself to think for a moment before she looked up to Thyra.

"I'm wondering...do you perhaps know anything about a man by the name of Uhtred?" Lynette asked, her voice a faint whisper among the obscure darkness which is only lit by a small window allowing inside a sliver of light.

Thyra stopped eating- all her movements stopped entirely. It looked to Lynette as if she had froze, her stare glued to the ground, her chest unmoving and her breath seemed to have stopped parting from her lips- she thought she had committed a grave sin they way in which Thyra completely halted. After what seemed like a lifetime of excruciating silence the girl averted her stare from the ground to Lynette, it was a not a gentle look- not the one which is always glistening in her eyes when Lynette visits- except now it is a look filled with refined rage.

"I know no-one of that name and certainly nothing about them." She snapped.

Lynette taken aback at her harsh tone and anger shut her mouth she did not say anything for a while before, "Right, I did not mean to offend you did I say something to do so?"

Thyra placed the bowl down running her hands over her stressed and infuriated features, "No." She breathed out it was so silent that it was barely heard but Lynette caught it in the air, "You said no such thing, I just do not wish to discuss whoever that is."

"Of course." Lynette rushed out, "And we will not."

Thyra smiled once again picking up the bowl and taking a bite of the soup "Come on, tell me what has been on your mind of late?"

Lynette laughed quietly- it traversed as a whisper- as she spoke, she could not help but dwell on Thyra's reaction to what she had put forth it was abrupt and harsh yet Lynette pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

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Abberwick
Kingdom of Northumbria

When Valaena had caught sight of his horse she simply stood as if she was rooted to the ground not truly believing the sight before her but the closer he got the more his silhouette appeared clear and the faster her heart raced. The wind danced in a dalliance around her and it swayed through her blonde locks but she paid that no mind at all for she was entirely consumed by him.

"You are no longer a prisoner!" She shouted in excitement as she reached Ragnar, he stepped of his horse.

"I wish it were as such." He sighed yet a smile lay on his lips for he was ever elated to see Valaena. He engulfed her into a hug when he pulled back his buoyant expression completely vanished from his face, he seemed suddenly stressed and angered.

"We have no time for idle conversations Valaena, Uhtred needs us." He rushed out grabbing the reins of his horse.

She tilted her head observing those that had accompanied Ragnar, there with him atop their horses was a woman with shoulder length blonde hair dressed in armour and a man beside her, a sword at his side also dressed in armour.

"And what has he got himself into now?" Valaena jested but that was soon to be torn apart by the truth of the matter.

"He has been fucking sold." Ragnar strained out, his voice entirely taken over by bad temper and enraged worry "We have nothing on his whereabouts."

Valaena blinked as she let his words filter through and then without a moments time wasted she hurried, "I will get my horse at once."

Uhtred had meant as much to her as Ragnar does. Valaena's father had honoured Ragnar the fearless with a fierceness no-one else could have ever matched and nor will ever amount to such a level- that except of his family and his daughter. When he passed years ago Valaena upheld the loyalty just as fiercely if not more, Ragnar a brother to her and Uhtred had soon become the same.

As she mounted her horse Valaena took one last quick glance out at the vast field behind her before with a sigh she rode off towards Ragnar and the two others.

Ragnar nodded at her- a silent understanding between them- before they all rode off with a tempestuous force carrying them, the grip on their reins so firm and the stare in their eyes spoke of unbroken rage.

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Eoferwic
Kingdom of Northumbria

Sihtric watched with undiminishing anger- in actuality- the longer his stare resided upon the man the unrulier and mightier his gaze became, Aelfric of Bebbanburg walked highly up the stairs and towards Guthred they met with a simple curt nod before they all advanced behind shut doors. His stare was still latched there boiling in frustration, he despised him so immensely it almost overcame his disdain for his own father.

The sun was shining in the air, the hasty winds moving in a blossoming illustrious arc crafting the sway of fallen leaves as they descended toward the ground. Sihtric could feel the sun's warmth lay upon his exposed skin, the aureate gleam shining through the canvas of clouds before it.

He ran his hands over his face clearing away any remaining fatigue and stress, since Uhtred had been sold by Guthred Sihtric has been nothing but wholly occupied in the matter- he was thoroughly stressed. He must be found, he has to be.

Many days had passed-too many-and with each day his worry for Lynette increased it crawled like a sickening feeling through his veins tormentingly, it hung on his chest so maliciously and it whispered in his thoughts. He only hoped that she had clung to his words and trusted him- he longed for her not to forget. To know that he will return even if he were to abandon all else and just rush to her, he would- he yearned to do that but it is foolish of him to do as such for he would be signing his own death, by now they must think him a traitor. Through all his worries her memory carried him like an intense whirlwind of tranquillity all consuming and entirely enthralling, she resided among the deepest parts of his bones buried so far beneath the skin she had become etched onto him. He will never forget- he would rather lose himself than forget her, not even for a moment would he allow it.

Sihtric turned his head towards the sound of a door being slammed shut and he met the frantic Gisela as she rushed towards him with a small forced smile, "The horses are ready?" She breathed out and Sihtric answered, "They are, lady."

Coming to a stop before him she exhaled, "Sihtric, I choose you because you are loyal to Lord Uhtred."

"Always, lady." Sihtric reassured.

"You will give this note to Hild when she returns." Grabbing his hand and forcing the note into the palm she then closed his fingers, forming a fist, enclosing the note inside "She will return." Gisela nodded her head before she walked off.

Sihtric pondered for a moment before he turned around to her, "How long will you be gone, lady?" He hastily inquired.

Gisela halted and turned back to look at him, "All I know is that I cannot stay." Before she hurried away.

The note resided in Sihtric's safe keeping for the days that had passed, he awaited impatiently for Hild to return but for the days that had come and gone there was no sound of her nor a sighting of her nearby. His distress and nervousness just kept growing the more the time progressed with nothing- no word at all. One appealing occurrence that did happen was the departure of Aelfic, for Sihtric could not stand knowing the man was in walking distance yet he could not do all that he desired to do so- a bloodthirsty need for an execution he so desperately wanted to inflict upon him. 

Mismatched smell of fruits wafted in the air as the day continued, people bustling about engrossed by their own doings- all of a sudden the comfortable silence was shattered by the raucous sounds of multiple horse hooves trembling the ground. Sihtric watched as his gaze fell upon Hild beside her another blonde woman fiercely dressed with a determined expression on her features, one telling of only the real severity of her.

Sihtric grabbed an apple from a basket placed before him before walking off to get closer to Hild.

"Sister Hild and company, what is your purpose?" Eadred inquired, he appeared to be quite agitated by the sight before him , Valaena scoffed at that.

"We're here on the orders of Alfred of Wessex." Ragnar answered. "I want to see King Guthred." He demanded.

"You are a Dane." Eadred snarled, disgusted.

Ragnar seemed amused by this he laughed before he replied "I am, Earl Ragnar Ragnarson." He pointed to a large man beside him "This is the warrior, Steapa, Alfred's man." Then he turned his gaze towards Valaena "And this is Valaena Amundsdottir, a fierce warrior in herself." To which Valaena looked down to hide her humoured laugh.

"You brought more Danes." Eadred scowled.

Valaena looked up her features now devoid of any previous amusement as she glared at the priest from atop her horse, "I am glad you have noticed, I'm not quite sure how well you are able to understand such things at....your age." She responded tauntingly.

To which Eadred clenched his jaw as a show of clear disdain.

"Alfred sends greeting to King Guthred." Steapa announced.

"And Guthred's sister, Lady Gisela is she here?" Hild interrupted, "...I would like to see her."

"She is not, she did abandon the city." Eadred answered.

"Where to?" Hild snapped impatiently.

Sihtric stood to the side, hidden from sight, he used a knife to cut open the apple big enough to hide in the note written by lady Gisela for Hild but not big enough so as to raise suspicion, he then called over a girl instructing her to take the apple over to Hild- pointing at the short blonde haired women sat on a black horse to the far side.

"You are Uhtred's brother." Guthred appeared from behind the priest.

Ragnar nodded his head, "I am lord."

"Alfred sent you here to do what?" Guthred harshly inquired seeming distressed by the matter.

"To find Uhtred." Ragnar calmly responded, Valaena wished he would just force it out of the man her patience was beginning to wear thin. "Alfred is in Uhtred's debt and would not see him harmed."

"Uhtred is lost." Guthred replied all too casually his tone cool.

Valaena tightened her fists on the reins.

"I'm truly sorry to say that...my apologies to both you and to Alfred." Guthred said composedly, not an ounce of regret nor guilt at least that it how it sounded to Valaena.

"There, you have had a wasted journey." Eadred mocked.

Valaena glared at the irritating man whilst she whispered under her breath, "It will not be when I am done with you." Thinking no one heard- Hild looked to her with an amused glance she then turned quickly to look at a small child patting her, rushing to pass her an apple before disappearing away in a run, her stare then located Sihtric who responded with a nod towards Hild.

"You will tell me the name of the man who took Uhtred." Ragnar demanded slowly and with intensity his gaze solely on Guthred.

Guthred shook his head "I...I need to gather my thoughts." He hurried away turning his back to them.

"Tell us the name if you are truly sorry, where can we find him?" Valaena shouted after him angered and stressed she had the intense need to jump of her horse and force the answer out of him, king or no king she did not care.

"Lord, I wish to know the name of the man that took him!" Ragnar pressed but Guthred had already left from their sights.

Eadred snarled, "Uhtred is indeed lost."

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A/N: Here is chapter Nine! I enjoyed writing this one especially the conversation between Lynette and Sven (someone has got to end him NOW)!! Stop Lynette trying to believe Sihtric is alive and Sihtric hoping she does not forget his words, they'll be reunited soon....I think lol! Valanena has been introduced I am not quite sure if I am going to keep her as a character just yet but she is fun to write.

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